Rode me down Statz-Platz.

Search hotels I could dwell in.

Linking the hyper– up to all th’-nets

Search-engine’s set to find digital gets.

 

My i-Pad‘s gone hay-wire;

M’laptop‘s on hold;

My back-up’s still Fire-wire;

I’m grabbin’ coins gold;

My brain’s in some Cloud;

My hotspot’s too cold;

And your ring-tone‘s too loud

If your version’s too old.

 

Rode me down Statz-Platz.

Look’d in Windows—real-time—

Left my ride, going Hands-Free  to

Truck’d down the Ave.s— Pod’s ear-buds thrummin’

Both m’lungs breathing

In all of that Analog air.

 

My i-Pad‘s gone hay-wire;

M’laptop‘s on hold;

My back-up’s still Fire-wire;

I’m grabbin’ coins gold;

My brain’s in some Cloud;

My hotspot’s too cold;

And your ring-tone‘s too loud

If your version’s too old.

                                              -Xper Dunn           Jan. 6^th, 2013