The Electric Riverbed

By the electric riverbed I laid

Taken captive by its sound

The sweet, fake droning of this false place

Lulled me in and out of sleep

As my hand hung in its binary shore

Feeling the bits of information wash over my fingertips and disappear as they came
 
 
The river lapping at the land

Licking its digital lips a little at a time

A little at a time

I recognized its danger

Yes, it’s shallow but it stretches for miles

Look, it goes on and on
 
 
The sound

I wish I could explain it

Like something I’ve heard

Before but it’s

Not there

Can my mind tell the difference

Between

An electric riverbed and a real one?

 
 
Photo credit: “physical bit” by Flickr user Miki Toshimichi

The Computer Age

We have arrived at the computer age
When bodies don’t care about the world
But only its images – lights and sounds.
Neon has died. LED shocked her. And,
I struggle with this as I am in between
Generations. I am not obsessed with or
Unwilling to indulge the sultry screen
Who tempts an entire generation to
Disengage and die, eyes bloodshot.
Shaking in the night. Afraid to look away
For fear of missing out. Of not knowing
Where we are or where we’re going.
We have arrived at the computer age
When the world resides in our pockets
Like misplaced hearts. Though we aren’t
Heartless. Only lost and addicted to the
High and mighty love of devices. Vices
Vying for our sight and our whole minds,
Rotting and writhing until they’re wires in
Pools of cream and synapses, electric
And starved, connected only
By weak arcs of interest, fueled by mediocrity
And buzzing. Our necks ache and creak,
Cracking as we make eye contact.
We have arrived at the computer age
When conversations are only whispers
If they exist at all. They are overpowered
By the bass, the treble, the blasts, and
The timbre of metal ringing and yelling over us.
Feedback is our conflict. Static, our boredom.
Binary bleatings from a species so advanced
And stupid that a broken circuit causes chaos.
A dead battery means death of the soul and
There is no way to revitalize and revive.
We only wait, dead in the gutter, overloaded.