I’m a Cyborg Worker.
The computer is an extension
of me. The mobile device is
an extension of me. The pay
station — is an extension
of me.
Of us. All of us. One team.
One work family. Cyborgs
with pleasant smiles
— often, genuine — you get
our humanity. You even get
to touch, if we allow. It’s not
always allowed. WE can back
away. We can have that
autonomy. As Humans, if we
want to redirect — go to that
machine, please.
If you come at us with good
energy. You are permitted. In
this vicinity. You may stay.
You may talk, and chat, have
a laugh. Have some small talk.
But if you poke, trigger, gas-
light your way into trying to
get your way — go to the
machine, please. Go. Just go
to the machine. The machine
has no feelings. The machine
won’t cry if you stand there
sighing and frustrated.
It’s a machine. It has its
programming. It goes through
its loops, and checks and
balances.
We still haven’t figured out
all our rules with these machines
as a society. Where are our
boundaries? Ethically? Financially?
Whatever other reasonings.
Cyborgs in a petri dish.
Virgo Sun Pisces Moon 