. . Shanghai's Robo Dogs With quick unnatural steps, and side to side Focusing glances, robo dogs preside And prowl the streets. They wear their growls in little Speakers around their necks, their barking spittle A blare of words: Go home, home now, now go. They click, record, and scurry to and fro On double-jointed limbs, metallic bones. They’re quickly joined by dark and hovering drones That troll the high-rise skies and reprimand The nighttime cries for food. The drones demand “Control your soul’s desire for freedom! Do Not open windows! Do not sing!” Who knew That hunger’s aria was humming just Outside so many balconies, a gust Of air that makes the starved bird scream, or sing, As soon as darkness hides the face and wing. . . Maura H. Harrison is a poetry student in the Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing program at the University of St. Thomas. She lives in Fredericksburg, Virginia.