Will I find me
the opportunity
in the operating system?

Will I blindly
beg for immunity,
so I can diss
all pursuit of my serenity
and bypass it,
with my own
liberal permission?

Will I be inclined
to ignore
the full picture
of humanity,

and recoil into
a boilerplate
a computer can

and somehow toil
to look for people
in the digital
itty bitty nitty gritty
ones and zeroes,
and the calculations
they propose,
by complicated derivations?

And fall into
a slew
of irritating iterations
of flat-hinged flaps
that dropped the world
into our laps,

or, even, as I’ve heard,
into phones
we palm or pocket
so we can speak to air
and “Like” the Friends
we find in there,

as we
with buggy, weary eyes
and one wee bud
in our ear socket?

Or fiddle on little bugs so small,
that, on a watch strap,
we can wrist ’em,
and thereby have
the world’s wisdom
in our thrall,

all while
days, weeks, months do pass,
since we have last
seen and touched
or been touched by
any truly present
person, animal, or plant–

at least any
that we clearly
can recall?

So if
you ever come to think
that your ears ring
with some sound
from our life’s new past,
not distant–

an arf or purr or chirp
or friendly human voice,
from some familiar
or exotic place?

It is your choice,
but maybe
you might let this thought
ride your brain waves
and through your coiled mind
to cross–

That sound is calling you,. . .

though you feel a counter-pull,

you know
deep down,
really, really, really
want to
get a grip–

And reconnect
with Planet Earth,
the air, the water,
creatures, trees,
and plants and dirt,

if you’re really daring,
show your face,

where you can touch,
be touched,
and heal,

and thus,
again get truly whole,

as you meet up,
and then rejoin,
with all the hands
and hearts,
bodies and souls
of the entire
human race–

it’s even possible,
that you might
achieve this all
without ever
even purchasing
a digital assistant.

This entry was posted in Poetic Musing (Longer Poems), Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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