By Rhys Hughes
BALL BEARINGS My attitude is very caring even to metal men who come in sections. Yes, I gave directions to a robot today. He was far out of his way because he had lost his bearings. ON MY SHOULDER There’s a robot on my shoulder and he’s looking rather older as the rainy days rust him away. He’s an electromagnetic parrot with an expensive taste in claret who swears like a hasty sailor on the rolling cobalt sine-waves of the stormy feedback sea. When we are both feeling bolder I will send him to my tailor for a suit of golden twine, the risk of corrosion finally over for that quantum chum of mine. CLANKING FRANK Clanking Frank would like to thank the technicians who fixed his inputs when they stopped working. An android with a battery leak is afraid to speak and answer the question: Watt’s the matter with you? He will run out of juice and never run again. A powercut is worse than a papercut to a mechanical man but Clanking Frank continues to trundle through the urban jungles of the world, going with the flow of his own current.
Rhys Hughes has lived in many countries. He graduated as an engineer but currently works as a tutor of mathematics. Since his first book was published in 1995 he has had fifty other books published and his work has been translated into ten languages.
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