on a dance floor of absurdity.
We laughed at the face of a technology
yet to to come,
a robotic voice speaking
in a condescending schmooze...
how cute and kitschy.
Now in the kitchen
with less food in the pantry,
and jobs gone overseas,
and families in chaos...
he shows up in a phone call,
the Do Not Call list
is out the window.
They plead in wealthy tones of white,
"vote for our contender."
I slam down the phone
on the robo call and fume
as I screech...
"Fuck you and your techno lies!"
just leave me alone with my wallflower stare.
No comments:
Post a Comment