Open Mic POEMS

If you were unable to attend our open mic night or just want to relive the fantastic energy, here is a sampling of two poems that were performed on our theme "Caught in the Web: Tales from the 'Net"

Enjoy!

MANY MONEY 

By Audrey Mardavich

i want many money

i want 57 million one-dollar money

i want to pile money on top of other money

i want to get married to money

he doesn’t

i want to get tested for diabetes

i want to burn all the belly fat

i want to burn all the money

i want to burn my car

cars are expensive

i want to quit

i want to

i want to value my coins

i have so many clothes

i want to burn my clothes

i want to wear my clothes made of ash

i want those who value ash to be reborn

i want to go to sleep

i want to go to sleep with many money

i want to put my money to bed

good     night

Chant for “Caught in the Web”

By Lori Zimmermann

Thrice the hourglass icon turned.

Thrice and once I’ve hit reload.

A 404 is never good.

   

Recall the first days of the ’net

For who among us could forget

The modem’s frothing, screeching noise,

The “You’ve Got Mail!” robotic voice,

The World Wide Web’s entrancing powers

Tying up phone lines for hours.

Double, double, dot-com bubble,

Y2K meant awful trouble.

Round about the web we go

Rumor and chaos we sow

Cyber-bullies, virtual hugs,

Viruses and system bugs!

If you would that malware slay,

Think twice before you click OK.

Stay out of flame wars: be polite,

Lest your trolling’s brought to light.

Tumblr, Tumblr, staggering stumbler,

Endless scroller, deadline fumbler.

Facebook is a hostile place—

Moreso even than MySpace.

If bychance you’ve been unfriended,

Think but this and all is mended:

That you can to Tumblr go

Though it loadeth always slow

On account of moving pictures

And long social justice lectures.

Type, meanwhile, in Twitter’s box,

What it is that rocks your socks:

Illegally downloading media?

Misinforming wikipedia?

Now before the night is through

I’ll hear what else you webheads do.

Twitter, Twitter, vile and bitter:

keyboard clack and minutes fritter.

By the clicking of my thumbs,

Some bold reader this way comes!