Black Box
Born 1946
Don'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
<a href="http://www.daypoems.net/poems/2438.html">Black Box by Timothy Bovee</a>
The DayPoems Poetry Collection, www.daypoems.net
Timothy Bovee, editor
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