What I love about Dana’s work is her ability to infuse empathy into the inanimate. The middle of the poem, for me, is the first gut punch — taking the life of one robot’s “favorite companion bot,” then setting the two down for burial. She could have stopped there, but instead she goes further, joining the robot couple while water fills around them.
— after Linda Gregg
My robot has empty lamps instead
of eye sockets. And there are no
upgrades. I put him in this hole
because I began pawing the loam
and could not stop. And draped
on him my husband’s finest suit,
the black one with pinstripes.
I slit it up the back to fit it
over his wedge of a body.
Removed the photovoltaics
from his favorite companion bot —
watched it slowly slump away
its existence, flour going heavy
in a sack. Then tucked the bot
under my robot’s left arm,
the way he carried it each day.
To make happiness for him.
He is not dead automatically.
The hole is filling with water,
from beneath. The water is turning
rust brown. I see my robot
looking, though he has no eyes.
I trip into the hole, lie
on top of him, and sing.
A Poet a Day is a month-long celebration of poets and poetry, in honor of National Poetry Month. Writers reserve all rights to their work, and all work appears with their permission.