NEW! Poem by Kristin Bock

Kristin Bock

I WISH I COULD WRITE A POEM ABOUT POLE-VAULTING ROBOTS


I turn my head to the window and a piece of foil lilting across the onion-field. If I were a pole-vaulting robot, I wouldn’t be thinking about windows or snowstorms or shiny, cold bellies. I wouldn’t fixate on my giant-heavy head or these yellow, watery eyes. No, if I were a pole-vaulting robot I’d run so fast my legs would become invisible. I’d be concerned with pageantry, white kites and waving. They jump for the fame, you know, and they believe this is a terrible sin. But hard as they try, pole-vaulting robots cannot turn away from their adoring fans. Without them, they would be mere cans crying into themselves.