Poem: OMG | Poetry | Hudson Valley | Chronogram Magazine

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Poem: OMG

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OMG What’s my world coming to!
Things are changing so fast. If you can’t keep pace
in this computer age—what’s one to do?
But, if you hold the course, you’ve lost the race.

How does one “log on” or “boot up”? I don’t know.
The meaning of these expressions are new.
Add to that the embarrassment one must undergo
when a child wearing Pampers can explain them to you.

You forgot your camera—much to your regret.
So, I missed my chance to get that picture.
“I have my cell, Grandma. We’ll get that one yet.”
Now a phone can take pictures—a phone/camera mixture.

I’m dragging my heels. I don’t want to go.
I want my newspaper on paper—not a machine.
I’ll just stick here with things that I know.
Even though I’m a dinosaur with an age-old routine.



When I was young many, many years ago,
seeing a movie meant dressing up for a trip into town.
Today, you stream a movie, put on your PJs, watch the show.
You’re at home, zap some popcorn, and turn up the sound.

Noah Webster, a wise old bird, knew oodles of words.
To him “twitter” meant the “utterance of successive chirping noises,”
a supposedly pleasing activity left to the birds.
But now, “twittering” is sound produced by human voices.

My trusty old typewriter has served me well.
But where, oh where, can one buy a ribbon?
Use your word processor I’m told, but I rebel.
I won’t do it. I’m stubborn. The search will go on.

I’ve heard “google” and “facebook” spoken every day.
I tried to become “hep” by getting a cell phone
since I couldn’t find “google” and “facebook” in my dictionary,
I give up. I’m a dinosaur whose cover is blown.

I’m a dinosaur who hates to admit,
more and more I think of my rocking chair.
There’s absolutely no way to explain it.
Just to rock and rock to find solace there.

Speaking of Poem,

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