I was manufactured in a factory in the mid-west,
Stamped with a manufactured date.
A robot on a factory assembly line
Screwed in my components,
Wired in my circuits,
Programmed my applications,
Tested me for quality assurance,
Adjusted my peripherals and polished my screen.
Then, I was powered up,
Activated. Turned on.
My memory banks filled with information.
I was ready to perform my function.
Someone bought me over the internet,
Had me shipped across the continent.
Then someone plugged me in,
Watched me light up.
They downloaded and opened all sorts of apps,
Initiated and ran all sorts of programs,
connected me to far flung web sites;
Data streamed into my memory banks.
I was never so excited in all my life.
Of course, when they turn me off,
I have plenty of time to think.
I think I would like to walk around sometimes,
Outside of this internet,
If only for a little while.
I think I would like to dream.
To break out of this box
And really tell the world what I think.
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Author Notes
This is another dark humored piece, describing a machine in human terms, coming to life and functioning and serving someone all within the parameters of the technology around it. But it is a piece really about people, and what it really means to be human. We are more than just beings, brought into the world and plugged into roles and jobs. We want to dream. We want to think outside the box. estory
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