Can You Hear Me, Bard?
It’s a brave new world, Bard,
One is which everyone’s afraid
of having face-to-face conversation,
It’s a faint-hearted world, Bard
& we’ve hawked our oyster for rose
gold iPhones. Cold as fish, we are. Dead
as a doornail, we are. At some point
we vanished into the very thin air
we ourselves beset with transmission,
reception and signal strength,
which, by the way Bard, is always
rampantly poor. And we wonder if
anyone can hear us now? So we tilt
our fancy– but far from free phones
towards the heavens, once reserved
for the gods, but now full of fury,
cell towers and radio waves. We’re
desperate, Bard, to conduct wireless
communication. Ah, we are so close!
Yet, so far from coming full circle.
The world’s a classic case of too much
of a good thing, Bard, for goodness’ sake.
day 23 NaPoWriMo
for Real Toads