The Robot

The Robot

    I woke up with my eyes closed, still practically dreaming of my escapades in Silicon Valley.  The computer boards and the mother chips whizzing by me like airplanes setting off on an important adventure.  The only reason I knew I was awake was by the sudden realization of my body.  I most definitely am heavier than I was, maybe I accidentally worked out without knowing it yesterday.  Actually to come to think about it, I can’t even recall my day before, the only thing that conjures up is fragments as if statistics were flashing between my synapses and the only thing being passed to my memories of yesterday are only specific numbers.  They seem relatively easy to decipher but foreign at the same moment in time.  The speed of these numbers, only ones and zeros, are trying to tell me a story.  My brain is going to fast to process all these fragments, ones leading to another, like they have some sort of meaning.  Yes.t.d.y I w..e .p t. my al..m cl..k an. w.nt t. wo.r. What does that even mean.

Half a Pack

Half a Pack

Had my first cigarette today,
Thought about how Democracy is a monopoly.
Had my second cigarette today,
Wished Dakota a Happy Birthday and confirmed
my appearance to his party.
Had my third cigarette today,
Walked to 7-11 with Zach, he bought the same pack as mine
and the specialist was changing the billboard
from victoria’s secret to some romantic comedy.
Had my fourth cigarette today,
and I tried to flick it into the ash tray that is about 15 feet away,
I missed which is usual.
Had my fifth cigarette today,
With Sam and Zach and we contemplated philosophies.
Had my sixth cigarette today,
Kept glancing at the wall while listening to “Bad Luck” because
I think I got some.
Had my 7th cigarette today,
I was getting a little tired and realized this was my good night
cigarette. 
Not even half a pack, maybe some one will reward me with a
blue ribbon.

Humanoidization- A Kafka Parody of Metamorphasis.

    As Sam Jenkins woke up one morning from astound dreams he found himself altered in his bed into a metallic robot.  He was resting on his dense, as it was made of titanium, back and when he tilted his head slightly, up and down, he could see his framed shiny torso which contained a rusty little compartment that looked to be bent out of whack but he could hardly see because he was wrapped up in his blue, fuzzy heating blanket.  His stiff legs, which looked like they were made of aluminum foil rolls compared to the gigantic size of the rest of his quantity, shifted trying to remain kept on his twin bed.