Heroes

I sing a song to toasters.

I feel like they’ve been taken for granted—

but me, I appreciate my bread golden brown.

 

I applaud the microwave

with its dings and pre-set settings

and even my $10 clock on the wall.

 

I marvel at my thermostat, and thank god—

oh glorious god of all things wet and warm—

thank you for my hot shower every morning.

 

Around the corner is my television, a window

into infinite worlds, flanked by small speakers

because I need an orchestra in my living room.

 

Upstairs, I’m perhaps most grateful for my flush toilet

simple and unassuming, elegant, but consistent—

it whisks away all things undesirable.

 

Finally, there’s my computer.

 

It represents all that is luxurious and frivolous,

powerful and never forgetful, intelligent

but passively waiting for my next click.

 

It is my connector to the world, where I’ve found

my work and livelihood, dates and

potential future mates, even my house itself.

 

With its dings and whirs, buttons and mysterious ports,

pop ups and chimes, and that gloriously wide colorful display…

it is a marvel, a miracle, a magic box!

 

I sit here surrounded by my Facebook and Instagram,

Emails and instant messages, Youtube and Netflix,

and I think to myself: this technological life—it’s good.

 

@technorotica

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