Drawn, as I am, to polarities, I feel my being expand to cover distant points of view. My body dissolves into a thin gelatinous film as I am stretched taut between possibilities. Suspended in this manner, I am completely immobile—an ellipsoid Martyr to abstraction.

In this, my larval stage, I am afforded a comfortable geometric anonymity; from the side I am invisible, from the front, merely translucent. As my body begins, again, to seek dimension, I feel the edges bend towards each other, surrounding and containing the emptiness. This I call: Mine.

This emptiness which fills me, being lighter than air, propels me upward into a clear blue sky to float freely with the others of my kind—
A balloon, with no strings attached.

– David Updike

My commandant declassified all that we were told
so we knew it was hunky-dory
After he proclaimed me persona non grata
I began to have my doubts. But I reasoned that he had God on his side so what could a robot do?
Anyway, I called to tell you we lost both engines and are drifting off the coast of Madagascar with a load of Cosworth-Ford V12 engines that we are going to throw overboard to lighten the ship and then row to Hong-Kong
Call you then, bye.
Now I seek only the Dim Sum in Patagonia in Portuguese currency now worth less since the capture of Stalin’s secretary’s poodle.