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Left Behind: A Sad Story

[February 6, 2009]

I haftasay I’ve lost my way
With all this modern technology.
When woofers and tweeters
Came into town
They boosted hi-fidelity
To help us hear those modern tunes
The zenipitomy
hailed as the epiphany
of electronic sound.
Then came them fiber-optics
They buried under ground,
Channeling all sorts of crap
To make my head spin
Round and round.
With all the light and
And myriad sights,
Not to mention slights-of-hand,
From engineers and
One-drum bands
All across the land,
And on it grew: satellites
Black lights, lava lamps
Whatever happened
To collecting stamps?
Bar codes, computers chips
Implanted in our mutts’ butts
Blue Ray, MPA, YiFi
It all makes me feel like a putz.
Spray-can dye, chemical tans
Gamers, hackers, Trekkies, shit
Is there no end to all of it?
ATMs, debit cards
Cell phones with goofy text
I seem caught betwixt
HDTV, MP-3, I-Pods
Surely make me
A modern Luddite clod.
Some days I think I’m so damn old
It’s time to say adieu,
But when I called the
Suicide line
This is what they said to do:
“The problem you are encountering
is what we call BCAM
And if by chance it’something else
Do you think we give a damn?”
Over.


 
 
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