TECHNICAL INSURRECTION
There is a technical insurrection in the laundry room.
Children are talking computers, missing the mark about
micro-chips and programs, e-mails and networking people.
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Amazingly, they do little else. They sit about talking. No
longer is a Princess phone good enough, now those who
wish must tantalize on-screen, whilst talking of their dates,
or the sex they almost missed, or the time and place of the
famous last something by Bubba Coyne, or whomever.
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It is no wonder no longer no body seems no ways no wiser.
Old shit-for-brains has finally won out. He beats the rug
rats senseless with Donald Duck and Mickey Mouse
truncheons or a Star Wars battering ram laser light.
No longer is good enough good enough.
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Someone is sticking gum wads on the dryer's top.
The startling pink stuck to the white metal reminds
me of something. As it dries, it hardens. This technical
insurrection in the laundry room must stop. Yet, I
listen and I know it will not.
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The blond kid says to his neighbor: 'What goes in a girl
hard and dry, and comes out all soft and mushy? Give up,
man, give up? Bubble gum's the answer, dude bubble
gum.' The washing machine starts rocking. It must be
an uneven load. It has to be an uneven load.
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