Poems of the Week

The Roomba

by Barbara Loots

Never watch a Roomba* if you want to keep your wits.
No chaos or uncertainty’s more probable than its.

When loosed upon a room to clean the floor’s entire expanse,
The Roomba, politician-wise, performs a crazy dance.

Its only wisdom is derived from bouncing off the walls,
Rebounding in whatever way the sensor first recalls,

And thus it never knows where it has been or what comes next
And seems to the observing mind perpetually perplexed.

Stymied in a corner or entangled in some fringes,
The Roomba halts completely and its inner world unhinges.

With bleats of incoherence it cries out for human hands
To lift it from the obstacles it never understands.

If you would drain a swamp or merely clean a dusty floor,
The aimless and unthinking are devices to ignore.

To keep your purpose clear and make the mad confusion stop?
Heave out the hapless Roombas and get busy with a mop.

* A robotic vacuum