Shooting for the Moon
You’re rudely dragged awake from sleep
and a night full of forgotten dreams
by the incessant farting of your phone
and its insistent ‘get the hell up’ screams.
While you mumble, bitch and moan,
your bed abruptly begins to empty itself
forcefully of your flabby and flaccid form.
You know you have no say as you stagger
to the bathroom bearing a bloated bladder,
not before tripping over the bloody robo vac
and cursing the roving autonomous little shit.
You then head to the kitchen for a breakfast
prepared by the overly attentive AI house assistant.
What possessed you to name it ‘Jeeves’
and give it a posh British butler’s voice?
Without asking, Jeeves activates a wall panel
turning a Van Gogh field of sunflowers
into an over-caffeinated female news anchor.
English (US)