Sick Cars, Sicker Cartwheels

Caveat, the screeching of metal to metal
As bits travel in nano-light-seconds of internet traffic
That is how I imagine the web
Take the fax machine off the purple table then
Smash the blue printer on the floor
Pixels of pale faces appear on the choked monitor
Cheers to your pseudonym, a crack name splattered
Across your endless comments, deafening
Text-filled rants
Your key strokes, drum one character at a time
55 wpm, on average but diminutive of shame or
Purpose
Stalk the girl next door
Drool over the deliberate zoomed in pix of the ladies
Comfort room – and more
It’s already past four – morning
You grin, your virtual life never ends, never tires

You spurt, then curse, over with
Such a small word: “Suck.”
Broken links, and a horde of malware, 3 clicks away
Yet you push, the “R_U_sure_Ur_8teen?” button
Those lovely dole eyes, looking blankly at you, as your perversion mounts
Such life, the honesty of a virtual escort or
For lack of a better term, companion of
Your wiliest dreams, Medusa to your lost seaman
Birds circle your screen, as the alarm calls out – It’s seven
Good Morning!
You grin, your virtual life never ends, never tires

Amazing!
6 gig of copyrighted songs, beautiful and behaved
In your loyal but old HDD
Michael Buble’ singing out…”Call me irresponsible”
You are, and you love every moment of it
The warez-machine makin’ serious dough though
Blown away, the 1 million dollar you won from
A ghost contest
Thank you gods of the IP addresses
A hacked bank account
A stolen identity
A herd of living, breathing spams

But still
(It’s as expected)
You grin, your virtual life never ends, never tires