How backward to you I must first have seemed
For having less devices than you dreamed.
I had no I-pad, only pencil, pen
And paper, made from trees that once had been,
To write my poems at night within my bed.
Get with it! You’ll be happier, you said.
For you desired to bring me up-to-date,
Turn my attention to a better fate.
Thought I should get an I-phone now, just for
Your chance to send an image out the door
To travel many miles to entice me
To be attracted electronically.
Of course I’d rather just have had you when
I thought you were what you once might have been
Before you joined up with the favored few
Who click and chirp and tweet the whole day through.
Now sadly, in place of a real embrace
Your graven image on my pillow case.