His copper skin scoured shiny
By eons of desert sands
Glimmered like a metallic ghost
At the bottom of the oasis
Master crafters, unable to create
A heaven from their workshop
Wiped silky oil from under
Their optic sensors
Motherboards calculated his age
How long, they reasoned, it took
For the madness of longevity
To curl up inside processing chips
And not relinquish
The wisest wished for lifespans
Closer to those of the carbon-based
Sentient meat sacks in the galaxy
And the uncertainty of their endings
Jennifer Ruth Jackson’s work has appeared in Strange Horizons, Liquid Imagination, and more. She, her husband, and her houseplant live in an apartment in Wisconsin where (two out of three) play video games. Jennifer has yet to beat her plant in any gaming session.
Devilfish Review 