The Information Cul De Sac - Poem by Dennis Hutchings
At first I knew not DOS from duh, and worried not a jot.
I said life ruled by mere machines, cannot be worth a lot.
But then my skills were criticized, by people that I idolized.
They said that if I wished to stay, that I should upgrade now -- today.
On their advice I signed up twice.
Soon WordStar and the Spreadsheet, became my new forte.
I prayed unto the Lords of DOS, to grant me PC skills.
I read the books, I stroked the keys, and even took some pills.
I learned to boot the hard drive, and autoexec. bat.
With Pentium and CD-ROM, my pencil was old hat.
Then dissension reared its ugly head, and just when I had nailed DOS dead,
the mighty Lords proclaimed abroad, their celebrated system flawed.
Still just a clacker, not a hacker, a virtuoso I sure ain't.
Gosh, the thought of my retraining, why it nearly made me faint.
Still, I ventured forth in Windows, and learned Drop and Drag and Paint.
Then just when I had got the knack, the Lords snuck round behind my back.
Yes, Windows 95 was launched. I felt like I'd been sucker punched !
I rolled my sleeves and went to work, but couldn't find the groove.
And then the answer came to me, to just have half my brain removed.
So now the landscape looms serene. The information highway gleams,
and opens up new avenues, but somehow I just get the blues.
I stand in awe beside the curb, and watch and wait for E-Mail blurbs.
I've got no Site, but undeterred, I vow one day to be a Nerd.
My OLF's declare with glee, the Internet will set you free.
I say what good can that all be, the thing grows exponentially.
It sucks you down into the pit, consumes your hours, and zaps your wits,
and gives your F2F mate fits.
So I arrive by logic pure, my theorem's proved, of that I'm sure.
The info highways' nothing more, than everybody's pet detour.
But still I ply the World Wide Web. I cruise and browse and snatch and grab.
From side to side and front to back, with meager skills I mouse and hack,
along my share of E-tarmac, my information cul-de-sac.
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Dennis Hutchings's Other Poems
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye