The Matrix On Cheetos
As Long As
As long as there’s bottomless Ping we can drink
and a computerized thingy implanted to sync
with what’s left of our brain and also the right
and Cheetos hardwired all day and all night
so that crunch we can go and snap we can pop
with never and never and never a stop,
then we will feel nearly, gee, almost at home
no matter how close or how far we do roam,
no matter if Saturn’s just outside our glass
or Uranus is left far behind on its ass–
Oh we will be happy as happy can be
in our saucer uncupped by all gravity
in a pod that’s so cute, so very cozy
where there floats just me and just me and just me.
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Here’s a sort of draft ditty for Bjorn Rudberg’s wonderful prompt on dVerse Poets Pub to write a sci fi poem. I don’t know if this qualifies–I do confess to liking the drawing. (An older one by yours truly. As always all rights reserved.)
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