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Microbia and the Robotoids
Microbia, now there’s a place to conjure with,
Didn’t believe it myself at first until I found a
Bicycle under the microscope. A curious thing
That nobody could possibly ride yet there was,
Mud on the wheels, wear on the peddles and
One tyre was flat. Perhaps it was a well worn
Trinket I thought but then how could it be for
Where would the mud come from?
They powered the tray to life one night, their
Mystery metals shining bright, the CNC was
Quiet and still no man around to work the mill,
Yet something moved amongst the swarf, a
Sparkling startling fluid force, a spectral stream
Of bright alloys gave birth that night to Robotoids.
The Robotoids, rulers of Microbia, creators of
Tiny objects of the most intricate form made for
Tiny beautiful people - the inhabitants of Microbia
Where stunning is run of the mill and drop dead
Gorgeous par for the course.
Again under the microscope. Lipstick and rouge
Too small to be used, the tiniest bra on earth,
French knickers in silk, a thimble of milk, in
Which swam a beautiful girl…
© Joseph G Dawson