The Melancholy of Mechagirl

A junkyard

the Company forgot to put a girl in.

I mean yeah.

My crystal fingers are laser-enabled

light comes out of me

like dawn. Bright orangecream

killpink

sizzling tangerine deathglitter. But what

does it mean? Is this really

a retirement plan?

All of us Company Girls

sitting in the Company Home

in our giant angular titanium suits

knitting tiny versions of our robot selves

playing poker with x-ray eyes

crushing the teakettle with hotlilac chromium fists

every day at 3?

I get a break

every spring.

Big me

powers down

transparent highly conductive golden eyeball

by transparent highly conductive golden eyeball.

Little me steps out

and the plum blossoms quiver

like a frothy fuchsia baseline.

My body is

full of holes

where the junkbody metalgirl tinkid used to be

inside me inside it