Autobot to Craigslist, come in please,
Tweet's login failed its CAPTCHA.
Now I need your status update post
Before uploading this microloan beta test.
I've searched over 120,000 results
Linking to over 1 million blogs,
Showing my exact location while typing
Little black pebbles on a polished shoe.
My poor email box resembles a psychotic
Frothing at the mouth with spam.
I find it amusing the Post Offices still exists
Where humans gather and stand in the old lines to the counter.
Without the machines that move our mouths,
Our words would merely be the airlines charging extra fees
For conversations in-flight:
The cost of listening would have value.
Now, I adjust your sweet Bluetooth static,
Loving me in my ear canals,
And holding you on Skype, you seem so near,
I nearly crush my laptop as I lay ontop of you.
My 140 character limit muse is a fat-fingered excuse,
To Be Or Not To Be, from the original blogger then.
Either way, this code-behind I write
Compiles for your amusement.
As I try to kiss your floating JPEG face
As it slogs its way through the flowers of my Screensaver,
I trip over my adapter cord and disconnect from my ISP,
For all the world to see.
And history will see lines like this,
And, if we laugh, then we will forget;
If we remember,
It will be immedately analyzed, then laughed,
And the words you used to read this,
Lost.
And you used to this,
Reused.
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