||[Aug. 27th, 2006|12:17 am]
Calls by name the leaves that aren't yet there
old robot in a junkyard sits rusting
remembers in its atom heart loves lost
women of mars it groped with claws lusting
for pulp covers posing and what that cost
now washed up after the hey-day, no T
V show to go to he eats cars like nachos
drinks oil by the gallon, sucks battery
like cigarette, and begins to doze...
has dreams about the time he wiped out flies
and all the moaning about bluebells and tits,
who knew they were maggot-symbiotic?
poor robot sleeps badly snores catastrophic
the world collapses, but a new one is born
buried in vehicles as he expires his heart explodes