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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