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Black Box
By Timothy Bovee
Born 1946Don't ask me how my computer works
It boots and it hums, that's all that I know
Chips and drives are for engineers and clerks
It's a black box.
Cereal sprouts from the grocery shelves
Calories gleeming in neat little rows
Perhaps it is grown overnight by smart elves
It's a black box.
I flick the switch and on comes the light
Drawn from the socket's electricity witch
So simple, so clever to banish the night
It's a black box.
My sweet little Civic runs--I think there's a gear
I gas it, I drive, I'm off to the beach
There'll be another much better next year
It's a black box.
I gave pain and got from love's testing start
I snap and I sin and I know not the cause
Nothing's so dark as the human heart
It's a black box.
DayPoems Poem No. 2438
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The DayPoems web site, www.daypoems.net, is copyright 2001-2005 by Timothy K. Bovee. All rights reserved.
The authors of poetry and other material appearing on DayPoems retain full rights to their work. Any requests for publication in other venues must be negotiated separately with the authors. The editor of DayPoems will gladly assist in putting interested parties in contact with the authors.
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