I see strangers practice the innate art
Of minding their own business,
With a Samsung Galaxy tab or an Apple I book, or a plain
Old mobile phone that seems like
A little Tamagotchi. Still in this day and age
Unlike the forgotten past times of electronic pets,
One is on the verge of life size AI robots for sexual favors,
Dressed in all the kinky outfits,
That make even a colorful drag queen,
Look like a “girl”-next-door. And soon robots too, like any woman,
Will learn the art of faking an orgasm,
The big O, not so big after all, just an octave higher
In sheer affirmation, which goes like
“Oh yeah” to the power 20.
And this is the world we have inherited.
Apples are computers, tabs are far from cats
Lovers are robots, Zen is an ultrabook,
Meat is synthetic. And we look at a plasma
Screen, to see wanderlust dethroned,
To the small screen, looking amazed at the rock arches in
The badlands, and wondering how did
It become this bad. The pathology
Of technocracy, will brainwash us,
To surround ourselves with everything
Tangible, looking out, wondering
“What am I missing?”. And in that saturation,
We will be asphyxiated by our own inventions,
Searching for a flower, a fruit, a bird,
Anything to remind us, that there is a world
Unpolluted by technology.
We are only as feeling as intangibilities let us.
[Whoever said Gods are happy, didn’t
Have a clue at how devastating power is]
And we will search to be powerless,
To the sheer fragility of being lost to something,
When you realize Gods are more often than not, grumpy,
And the buck stops there.
Technology is to us humans,
What divine clay was to God,
Surely, original sin is not far away……