Friday, February 27, 2015

The Great Blue Cry

[I had fun writing this entry for a poetry contest this week]

The Great Blue Cry

(or The Day the Internet Came to an End)

The day the Internet came to an end,
and all the cell phones fell into puddles

The day the TV sets
mades bets:
“Hey, who can play dead the longest?”

The day all the video games 
ran out of levels 
and texting thumbs
to hitchhiking were restored
The day a lone Googler 
Googled “Gone” 
and every gadget and gizmo with a  
suck-em-in-screen-oh-ignore-the whole-worldo

Simply Vanished

in a flash,
in big and little puffs of smoke,
leaving hands empty,
open wide
and the air alive,
buzzing with static

It was on that magical day,
Johnny Doughboy and Jane Stiflebrain
sat staring at the charred, black spot on the floor,
a smokey, sulphuric place
where only seconds before
a gurgling, growling sound erupted, 
the floor opened wide
and as for their iMac,
a sinkhole sucked it 

The ground healed up quick,
fresh carpet even sprouted
but Johnny and Jane   
were amiss, 
even stunted

“What is life without a flashing screen?” 
Johnny said blankly to Jane

“I would tell you if I could look it up,”
Jane replied, 
her eyes, her face, her brain
as plain
as her name

And so Johnny and Jane sat frozen 
for many days and many years,
their eyes zeroed in on the spot that swallowed their iMac,
hoping against hope it would one day come back
For food, they survived 
on cheese curls and Ding Dongs
For talk, they exchanged the hums and beeps and whistles 
of extinct video game songs

Their skin from the snacks emitted a pale, orange glow 
and tossed candy wrappers stuck to their burgeoning bellies
like tinsel on a tree
But they beeped and they hummed busily,
assuming they were happy,
as happy 
as happy can be

But then one day,
something blue crossed the corner of Johnny’s eye
It was on the other side of the window — 
something vast, wide and splotched with wisps
as white as cotton or snow drifts 
(if he could remember them)
Jane saw it too 
Astounded, they turned their gaze,
searching for words,
finding only a haze
of beeps and whistles

Stuttering, staring and, finally, with tears streaming
Jane called out, 
“The blue,I remember
the blue is called,

“Yes, you’re right,” Johnny replied 
with words instead of whistles
He ran to the window 
He opened it wide
“I remember the Cry, 
the beautiful, blue Cry

Now stand by my side, he said,
so we can look at it forever

And drying their tears,

they did.

-- Sarah Johnson

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