Connections Poem by Mary Champion

The world is very well connected
when one speaks electronically.
I Facetime my sister In Norway
and it's just like we're in the same room.

There are miles of highways and byways,
not to mention trains and boats and planes,
seamlessly connecting here to there
and there to nearly ev'rywhere else.

In the remotest places on earth,
ragged people will brandish smartphones
that connect them to the worldwide web
and give them access to GPS.

Satnavs plan our routes with precision,
ensuring we will arrive safely
at our desired destination -
(traffic and protesters permitting) .

My brain is stuffed full of synapses,
connecting my complicated mind -
not always with perfect coherence,
but then you can't have everything.

So why, when I have got a problem
with my utility supplier,
or with the bank, or the government -
can I never make that connection?


I'm offered a profusion of apps,
or I'm ordered to scan QR codes,
or I am accosted by chatbots
that only speak machine language.

But the sublime, divine connection,
the one that could solve everything,
is imprisoned behind barricades,
guarded by legions of armed A.I.

It takes all my devious cunning -
threatening to end my subscription,
pretending I'm speaking for the dead,
pretending that I myself am dead,

threatening the CEO with death,
‘til I hit on the Final Solution -
typing garbage into the chatbot
to connect with a HUMAN BEING!