Beetle Circus

One, two. Our steel skin
fizzed, into iron's savage crush,
a rust-blood to baptise our silicon kin.

You remain unmoved during your mechanical work.
A pyramid of all-typists perform to no-man,
a mask of utility in a godless void.
We were life, then a tool, now a toy.

Welcome to the zoo,
a home for the useless, we're like actors,
too.

© Mark Sheeky. Permission is required for reproduction.