In Which I Say Meh To A Fruity New Gadget

An iPad is not something that I need;

I have a Kindle and an iPod touch.

Between them I've more books than I can read,

And that's not counting paper ones, as such.

Within the App store I've found much that's fun

But don't see where they need a bigger screen

That weighs near two pounds and won't fit in one

Of my ass pockets (really, that's my scene:

The Kindle makes my shoulder bag so light

Compared to five or six big paperbacks,

And now the iPod Touch does too, fits right

And takes up even less space!). But relax

I will not be a hater and reserve

The right to change my mind, indeed to swerve.

In Which I Indulge In Solar Physics From My Patio

My iPod Touch has brought me lots of fun,

Podcasts and tweets al fresco, but there's more,

For 'mongst the apps I've got is 3D Sun

(I went a little crazy at the store

This first month). Each new day, my gadget brings

New data from our two STEREO probes

That orbit Sol, our star. They snoop on things

That once were stellar secrets. How the lobes

Of my brain light up like a solar flare

(Occipital, parietal and, indeed

The frontal, too!) whenever I look there!

Auroras and coronal masses! Need

I say more? Just today, for me to crave

The program played some wild sunspot shortwave!

In Which I Go All Meta Over My Ipod For @ParadiseTossed

Today, a brand new gadget came my way,

An iPod Touch, and so I join the rest

Of my geek fellows, all of whom will say

That most things things "i" are really quite the best

In terms of ease of use; no need to think

Too hard about exactly how one might

Accomplish what one wants to. Each night's sync

Can bring new tools, to one's complete delight,

New apps, which entertain and yes, inform,

And even which allow me to compose

New sonnets to my blog. And should a storm

Of thought come to me during my repose

No longer must I drag me out of bed;

I grab my toy, and share what's in my head.

BONUS BONUS SONNET: In Which I Reflect On My First Way After Hours Bike Commute

At 1 A.M. the city of Cheyenne
Belongs to me and Deep Blue, it appears.
My only obstacle - the odd trash can
Placed in the bike lane - merely draws my sneers.
I'm warmly dressed and ride into the fog,
And crow along with Kurt Elling's best song
With fear of neither emo kid nor dog
To trip me up, whatever could go wrong?
I pedal happily, look 'round and sing
Right at the top of tired lungs with Kurt.
But mind the ice, Kate, on the streets - one thing
I can't dismiss. A wipe-out would sure hurt!
And just between us two, O reader mine,
Jaybiking 'gainst the traffic lights is fine!

In Which I Shamelessly Rip Off A Chel White Film

Chel White has shown us what he goes through when

It's time to write. It feels so strange and true

That it is my own sharp, harsh medicine

For when my own processes leave me blue.

First off, I kill the lights except for that

Which shines out from my laptop's baleful screen.

Then smoke a cigarillo there, out back,

Behind my house. I write some words, then scream,

Draw weirdo red cartoons in a Moleskine,

Then wipe out roughly half the words I've made.

To round things out, I let The Dude (he's mine

Own greatest muse) say how I feel, then trade

Self-pity for the awesome pow'r of PANTS.

Then write a lot, crank up the tunes, and dance.

BONUS SONNET: On The iPod Belonging To My Sister

The thing has got more cheese than Tillamook,

My sister's iPod. It's a time machine.

The 80s live forever in her book

(She had a better time back as a teen).

Glass Tiger vies with Journey for her love,

And with Bad Company and Kiss and Bon

Jovi and Queen and Eminem and (of

That last she claims it's walking tunes upon

Which she depends to set the beat) and hey,

No Quarterflash? What's happened to this girl?

A-Ha, she's got that, salted with, I'll say

For fairness' sake, the Foo Fighters and -- pearl!

Some U2 and The Cure and Siouxsie Sioux

She's grown a bit since 1982.