micazon

Hospital corners No wall     for kicked-out edges Gasp of quiet Counting     fingers     and     toes Ten—and—ten Privation is my tiny center Pinhead angel Unitary My mind I hope Take your broken kaleidoscope

Robot! Robot! burning bright Near the boiler on the right, What brave metal in what die Could yield thy fearful symmetry? What inventor did devise Sensors to act as thine eyes? What calipers did he acquire? What the hand made to rewire? And what solder, and what art Could place the button and press "start"? And in the forge, by what deceit Gave thee alloy for thy feet? What schematic could ordain A set of circuits for thy brain? At the work bench, did he gasp Seeing first thy pincers grasp? When the world beheld thy gears And cried aloud their mortal fears, Did he howl and did he flee? Or did he laugh with awful glee? Robo