Unnoted birdsong.
Busy Bluetooth news,
About a tempting selection,
Of AI odalisques,
Tweaked to pert perfection.
Hand-held computer on a silent scooter,
Zero foot-steps, slow heart-rate histogram,
Going forward (as they say), yet backwards,
To silicone curves of simian delight,
And a chance to dance with the moon again.
Speed-dialled speed dates,
Over paper-cup coffee,
With the à la carte cast
Of a livestream movie trailer,
Well grilled before tasting.
Back-packed babies,
On shopping-mall mothers,
Hands-free foraging for funderwear,
And supply-chain fruit in season everywhere,
Reaped by some ethically cleansed fellah.
Ersatz ciggie smokers,
Botoxed Batman Jokers,
Modern Picts with Anime faces,
Androids lurking in liminal places,
As alarm bells warn of a virtual storm.
Cordless without separation anxiety,
Cashless yet rich. Dead still performing:
Remastered leftovers in the digital fridge,
Chanting PIN, AMA, FOMO ... SIM, RAM, YOLO,
While House Sparrows wait on death row.
John Walter Taylor
© All rights reserved
Ides of March 2024
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