Sunday, September 24, 2017

The joy of my Apple Watch series 3: a poem

"the same digital platform that offers us social interaction, news, entertainment and shopping all in one place makes its money by making it cheap and easy to send us commercial or political messages, often guided by algorithms." --Zeynep Tufecki

"eventually, you will not be able to imagine life without something buzzing attached to your body." --Navneet Alang

With my spandex and my man bun,
I leap, twirl, and dive in the pool,
my new Apple Watch series 3 expertly
sluicing as it exhorts me to run,
fly, and spin to complete its circles,
the freedom of constant social media
reminders lifting me to contemplate
the hagiography of Steve Jobs,
his stubble magnified to a great
wheat field on a massive screen
as my Apple watch series 3 beeps, tracks,
and pings its grand dream of constant internet
reaction, its algorithmical call and response
always blinking on my wrist,
so many apps and ads scrolling on its tiny screen
bringing love, hipness, connectivity,
and peace, the soft sunlight of a fall morning
replaced with circles, phone calls, texts, links,
emoji tracking my heart rate, relative speed,
exact location under a delirious grid of cell
phone towers like a bouncing ball
of ever expanding data, 1000s of tinny pop
songs in my earpods serenading me as I stay
connected, connected, connected
all the time, time, time, a happy retro image of
Mickey Mouse smiling as the second hand
ticks, ticks, ticks in the Apple Watch series 3's
simplest and most ominous iteration. 

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