Bit by bit
he watched all
the iPods, phones,
and tablets come
back ashore,
come back to the store
with their cords
and their cases,
and he put them
in a box
in the back to be
picked up on
Tuesdays,
to go somewhere
for the carrion crows
to pick all the meat
from their necks
and sell the rest
for scrap.

And he debated how much
to put in the Cloud,
there wasn’t much
more to keep,
not much straw
or stuffing
to make him complete—

who thought one
day we’d write poems
about data, how it’s
numbers
and not words
that make us whole,

that all of us
can be reduced
down to ones
and zeroes,

and that zeroes
like circles
complete a line,
but look empty
inside
like a hole,

and some say
that’s the start,
that’s the return:
to forget
how much

we needed
things,
things
that make us
feel full.

Categories: poetry

Tags: capitalism, cloud based poetry solution, consumerism, futurism, math and art, poem, poetry, postaday, scarecrow poem, technology, William Pearse writer, Zen