All these servants waiting on our love!
In the morning the genie of electricity
carries our greetings to start the day. Above
the keyboard a silicon orchestra plays
the libretto that gets us to sleep. Our words
are tumbled in the lap of processors more
clever than imps. Like a flight of birds,
our weightiest thoughts take wing and soar.
We hang a hundred dates in that Web.
It dangles our flirtations on the screen,
just a finger's length away from instant gab.
We saddle this pander, this speedy go-between,
with welcome tidings, confidences that might
serve affection's most exacting appetite.