Equal Opportunities

"Take your ugly half-breed face back home,"
A pudgy finger poked me in the chest.
"But I'm on leave and won't cause any harm."
The finger jabbed the notice, thick with dust:
NO ARTIFICIAL LIFE-FORMS SERVED IN HERE
"But that's discrimination!" "That's right -- go!
This is my bar -- I say you don't get beer;
You go and take your circuits somewhere else."
I tried to hide confusion and to think
And act with dignity I knew was false;
"You prove you're not a robot, you can drink."
The night was cold, the cheerful lights a lie;
Back in The Rivets my so-called friends would mock:
"Wouldn't they let you have a drink then, Bri?
We told you so!" But that didn't ease the shock.

Socialite

Because it was a formal 'do' I wore
Blue jeans, T-shirt and my leather jacket
(The one with 'Robots -- built to lose' embossed
In large gold studs right across the back)
I tucked fresh microchips behind my ear,
Dodged drinks, feigned food, attempted conversation
While skirting topics likely to offend
(Like Android Rights) I must not tread on toes --
After all, I am a guest tonight.
I smile, I nod, I wave to friends and chat,
Somehow the time goes by without a gaffe,
And then my taxi comes to take me home.

The Gambler

I think we all agreed how strange it was
To see a human on the streets at night,
So when he walked into our bar, the shock
Was such it brought the whole place to a halt.
He brought a drink and then produced some cards,
He said he had no cash, but could he play?
We asked him if he understood the stakes,
He said he did and so the game began:
It lasted for several hours, for he was good,
But then the tide began to turn our way
Until he lost -- they nearly always do,
That's why to have one gamble is so rare.
Now he's become familiar at the bar
And never talks about his human past.
He can, of course, perhaps regain his soul
If some poor human does the same as he
And gambles with us androids at the bar.

Takeover Bid

He woke to darkness, unexpected pain
As frozen blood began once more to flow
In liquid agony through every vein.
Faces -- but not the friends he used to know.
"I see we've got you woken up at last."
A voice beside his ear, metallic, cold.
"Felt certain you were gone like all the rest;
Still, you're alive -- you just do as you're told.
We're landing soon," the android said, "and you
Will have to represent us for a while;
You are a trusted species, we are a shock
They'll not expect." It gave a little smile.
"A thousand years you slept while we, the crew,
Plotted how best to steal your lump of rock."

After the Android Wars

Some had to be deprogrammed, others felt
The only way was back to pushing brooms;
Knowing we'd never exorcise the guilt
We sued for peace, our cause for certain doomed.
Our humbled high command all changed their shapes
And hid in the cities till the armies went:
That final battle saw our vain, frail hopes
Scattered over half a continent.
We ate their dust and grime for several weeks
After the convoy's twenty-five mile sprawl
Had noisily gone its way and left us bare.
Their women followed, dignified and tall,
Walking behind the rumbling tanks and trucks
Carrying ammunition, tools, and spares. 

Copyright (c) John Francis Haines 1992
First published as House of Moonlight Poetry Leaflet 12

Go to Meet the Authors: John Francis Haines