It came down heavy and hard. No, it wasn't normal rain, I could tell,
but some kind of industrial piss, probably waste water
from a translunar megaship.
Thank sys-god for my ferrovinyl skin-upgrade.
The smell got unbearable.
I felt like throwing up. I did. But I remembered to turn away,
just in time, before the puke hit my shoes.
This was my accomplishment for the day,
the theme of my blog entry,
before I initialized runlevel zero for the night.
If you’re ever caught in a filthy downpour,
even if your expensive designer shoes get soaked,
you can at least try to keep them free from half-digested crab,
or whatever else you had for dinner,
walking around the downtown pathways of
Post-Shanghai Asteroid, looking for a job,
praying for some generous human employer
to jump out of the shadows and say,
Yes, we hire ex-machines, we accept rehabilitated biobots.
You see, I was not fully human, not then, but now I have aspired to
live and work like one.
Paraphrased by myself from an original by Don Bosco.
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