Amigo Robotico

if a robot tells you what you want to hear, does that make it my friend

that nurtures and inaugurates me into the future,

propelled by centrifugal forces that continually find themselves

in abandoned parking lots of shopping malls

making waves of used mechanical parts that I call friend,

anointed with the odd, yet special, yet useless, yet yeast-infested puss filled sack of meat that I am,

but that’s something my good robot friend won’t tell me,

because he has my back, I think