ISPEAK: A Poem

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If I spoke in ispeak, would you be charged to import what I’m writing?

If I downloaded your mode of communication and uploaded my message to your message board, would you hear a word?

How bout if I youtubed my testimony?

Or synched my library with your library?

Then would we be reading the same facebooks?

If I gravatared toward you network, could we work through the blogosphere and find some common programming?

Could we learn to surf the same google waves and virus-up the same yahoos?

If I were to override and export the old software and download your attire, can we chat?

I’ll do that.

But first I’ve got to search this society devoid of spoken verse for the terse meanings of not speaking.

It’s a society that’s not separated by age or ethnicity, but by who can tell the difference between a JPEG and a Gif and a who give’s a shit zip-file floppy disk mouse click.

But let’s say we turn off the noise.

We regress to the spoken word.

We cut the copy and paste and just say what we’ve got to say

Will you disconnect?

Probably.

So turn those speaks up up up

And raise that virtual cup

To an age of singers made famous with an auto-tune,

when 3-D glasses reveal the truth,

and youth is defined

by how much time you dedicate to the everythingness of space.

After I learn to ispeak

and I can navigate like a Best Buy geek

will my message be

lost in translation?

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