Treasure Island

Harley White


Google me, google me, google me.
I’ll google you, google you, google you.
Google me, too, oh do, please do.
Google me, too, boohoo.

Googling, googling whoop-de-do.
We’re googling, googling, googling.
Googling all we see.
Googling you and me.

Hi, Instant Google, how do you do?
Google me through, wham bang, thank you.
You google me, and I’ll google you.
IC, OIC, do you see me, too?

We google googolplex googols of Googlers.
We google googols and googols of Googles.
FYI, I’ve got a googlenym, too.
Google, I’m goo-google-eyed over you.

We’re googling reams of memes and themes.
Some of us google googledom dreams.
Google gives cyberspace virtual shape.
We log-in our life on our google netscape.

But who’s looking in as we’re browsing about?
The question of privacy’s always in doubt.
I’m googleplexed, Google, what are our web rights?
Are search engines searching us on our websites?

Now don’t get me wrong, Google, you I adore.
I’m quite codependent on you to explore.
Your motto says, ‘don’t evil be’, which is good.
I click on new features and feel understood.

For my part, I avoid social networking.
(I hate being nudged and ‘not nows’ are irking…
I’d rather tick, ‘stop it’, ‘don’t bug me’, or ‘halt’.)
My head’s in your cloud, Google, you’re my default.

You open the portal to info domains
And make user-friendly our surfing terrains.
Still, Google, this handiness could my mouse trick.
So many things seem so attractive to pick.

And lately I’ve found myself fraught with unease,
Afraid of those hyperlinks out there that tease.
Has ‘googlephobe’ entered the lexicon yet?
(Psst, I think Big Brother sneaks peeks at my net.)

Submitted: Sunday, June 09, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, July 31, 2013

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

This was written in 2010, but it seems more timely than ever...

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