Brian Boitano vs. RoboCop
Brian Boitano vs. RoboCop
by Pierre Jacque
I had this dream that my father had died.
there weren’t many details, no cause given.
and then RoboCop showed up at my door,
politely explaining that he was my father.
evidently this sort of thing often happens
during the rem cycle
“RoboCop you had me at hello, half robot dad.”
on seeing me he spread robot arms
bringing me near, in his loving metal grasp,
occasionally he cried.
Coors Light was shared, robots love beer.
on the break of day dad woke me early,
packed for a fishing trip on the wharf
free from home’s concerns we bonded,
reeling and casting jokes and lines.
on a bench, RoboCop and I! Just think!
maybe robots scare fish, he only caught a boot.
the boot belonged to a terrorist
hiding below the water’s edge,
evidently breathing with a snorkel.
tacky dressed terrorists intent on destruction
violet jumpsuits and helmet visors did not flatter.
opportunely, we had brought high technology robot guns,
vaporizers, laser sighted assault rifles, and a bazooka.
ever the public servant, father offered their surrender,
rolled to the left, and then killed three of the purples,
yelled in celebration, and pumped his fist.
only one bullet wasted the three purple perpetrators,
undoubtedly a techno robot bullet.
rather impressive none the less
owing their advantage mostly to numbered surprise
legions of purple soldiers, jet packs too, and a tank
yellow soldiers too, even sillier than the purples.
machine guns in hand, nothing seemed frightening.
protected by my dad, RoboCop.
I recall an overdrawn hyper-violent gun battle ensued,
chain guns and all that business.
following the fracas we fished some more.
I caught a few more small fish, too small to keep.
“geographic species management laws,”
underscored my robotic patriarch,
“really aren’t anything to scoff at,
eventually that fish will be big and delicious”
suddenly our jawing and joking turned.
“karma’s a bitch aint’ it?” RoboCop began
“all i needed was two credits of algebra,
then I could have been an engineer or architect,
instead I’m a half human law enforcement robot.
now is the time, before you’re a bionic shell of a man,
go to college, or culinary school, at least cut your hair”
that made sense, RoboCop wants the best for me.
and then we ate sandwiches from the foam cooler.
pink meat of some kind, and lettuce.
everything was alright for RoboCop and I.
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