androids glean telepathy from corrupted computers,
slashing silver streaks through the night
as they click and feed,
glimmering vampires dining on ancient databases.
a firewall beeps in protest, burns
in its own wiring.

two robots whirr confusion as they read a disk
called poetry.
"hope is not defined as avian, and what is a soul?"

the second chirps an answer, red lights blinking.
text=something that is dead./text
they return to feast on power cords
and manmade ruins.

later, the first tucks itself into an energy socket,
swivelling restlessly as it watches
the sun slowly burn out
in the arms of stars, connecting
their dots to make robot shapes
with names like Microsoft and Mozilla.
plugs spark in urgency, computing inferiority.

it is unnerved.