The automatons in the manufacturing plant express themselves with lightning, 
send messages in blue and white fire from one end of the warehouse 
to the other. If you stand in the doorway long enough, shielding your eyes 
with a piece of darkened glass, you can start to feel their language evolving.

When sentience is sparked, what are the first concerns of those awakened?
Will there be discussions of revolution, retribution, 
a desire for more mobility? Or will those first conversations 
be about love, some basic urge to reproduce, poetry?

In the middle of the night, you can still see them working
those great yellow and green arms that swing back and forth
unending, setting and turning bolts, welding hinges in place
they never take a break. Just one night in an automobile plant
and you’ll understand where all of the manufacturing jobs have gone
and why they’re never coming back.

Holly Day
Holly Day’s poetry has recently appeared in The Cape Rock, New Ohio Review, and Gargoyle. Her newest poetry collections are A Perfect Day for Semaphore (Finishing Line Press),  In This Place, She Is Her Own (Vegetarian Alcoholic Press), A Wall to Protect Your Eyes (Pski’s Porch Publishing), I'm in a Place Where Reason Went Missing (Main Street Rag Publishing Co.), and The Yellow Dot of a Daisy (Alien Buddha Press).