Saturday, October 9, 2010

My Treo: A Poem of Conflict and Acceptance


My Treo is nothing more than a dinosaur
I have dropped it several times on the floor
So many that the face is inextricably cracked
And there is no hope of getting the touch screen back
My Treo has never had a good relationship with internet connecting
It's only use to me has been for calling and texting
The photo capability is narrow and bleak
With washed out colors and a lens that is cheap
It is cumbersome and reminiscent of things Windows-based
And obviously an instrument which was developed in haste
I look forward to the day when I can drop it from a tower
And watch it rapidly disassemble as it lands with power
Yet, for now, it is my cell phone, my connection to Earth
And it is my Treo, for whatever it's worth