Modernity is marvelous,
Magnificent to behold.
The future is like magic,
Like the flashing cards of old.
The series of sequenced photographs
That made them seem to move.
The mystery that made us laugh,
That which greatly we would improve.
Already, we had tamed the voice
And crammed it into a wire.
A bell would ring and we would say:
Whom do you require?
Old Edison and his cohorts
Finally would save the whales.
They lit the world, threw out the lamps,
Brought light when sunshine pales.
Another wire without a voice,
Which long had earned its due,
Financially could not rejoice,
But continued to struggle through.
Meanwhile, those nutty Wright boys
Cycled right into the sky.
We first ignored their wing-ed toys -
Now, Up has become How high?
The auto-driven carriage
Has made a full revolution.
The steering wheel's now baggage,
And auto is no illusion.
With the wires crowded, We use the air
To yell at you at home -
It fills the ether everywhere.
From Florida to Nome.
Those flipping cards now sing -
And, boy, they're really loud!
Just when you think that's everything,
That possibly could please a crowd,
They join the wireless and the flipping cards,
And you're boxed within the house.
You're now the prisoner of the bards –
And frikkin' Mickey Mouse!
As though this were not enough
To lay our senses bare,
One and zero, and the right stuff
Should alert us, then, to care.
But, is our being overwhelmed?
Has consumption dimmed our wit?
Are we not aware that we're at the helm
Of a vulnerable space ship?
Is the future, then, naught but inanity?
Is that how, eventually our senses click?
Have we achieved the ultimate vanity -
At the hand-held end of a selfie stick?
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