mayday

I am a lonely robot
slowly dying, alone
in the vast emptiness
of space. I bleat out my
distress signal but
it’s gradually, imperceptibly
growing weaker, as passing
rockets and satellites
continue to ignore it
and me, I continue to
die by degrees. and yet
I can’t stop saying it, to
myself and to
the unfeeling stars:
S.O.S.
mayday mayday mayday
S.O.S.
mayday mayday mayday
S.O.S.
mayday
mayday
mayday
S.
O.
S.
mayday

Published by

R. Brookes McKenzie

what fresh hell is this

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