We dedicate this poem to the poor suckers who are buying stock in Silver Spring Networks today. You’ll be making Al Gore and other venture capitalists wealthier, and they will leave you holding the bag when the flurry of lawsuits hits.
Don’t say we didn’t warn you.
“Ode to the toxic ‘smart meter’”
(the utility refuses to remove)
“Your demise is inevitable.
Someday, I’ll stick you to flypaper
and take you to the range for target practice.
I’ll twist your smoking innards into pretzels
and hold you under a pillow to suffocate your last spark.
Stuffing you in a black trash bag, I’ll dump you in the trunk
of my ‘69 Chevy and gun it to the nearest cliff.
Poking the shiny chrome nose over the teetering edge,
I’ll scramble out, and push, sending you down,
down to the jagged, foam-covered rocks below.
Even if they find the banged up wreck,
they’ll never ID your smashed remains.”
“SOAPBOX JILL”—Blogger
Maybe you have your own smart meter poem you’d like to get off your chest?
The poem came out of a writing challenge to use the following words in a poem:
Inevitable
Target
Pretzel
Pillow
Chevrolet
Your car on the cliff picture is great.
Thanks.
SJ
Ad soon as I saw your keywords, this sentence came to mind.
When you become a target of the smart meter, you find it inevitable that your only rest is from your head on a soft pillow, after eating a soft pretzel, in the pickup bed of a Chevrolet.
My daughter is on All Poetry and someone started a contest last fall to write a political poem in the form of a song or rap, and it also had to fit many other parameters, which she fulfilled, including mentioning locations. Of course, I encouraged her to consider the topic of smart meters as we were in the thick of trying to be the first city in Wisconsin to get an opt out, which we did get. Here is the link to the actual poem, in which she gives background information at the end of the poem. http://allpoetry.com/poem/10040877-Zapped-by-Sinead_of_the_Loch. I’ve also had the pleasure of getting to know Soapbox Jill while trying to work on solutions to help the rest of smart-metered Wisconsin.
Zapped
By Kayley B.
Waves that burst with magnetic pop,
“no they won’t hurt you” say men at the top,
like the utility board knows what’s best for me,
living alongside radio frequency.
Waterloo, Madison, Baraboo,
all falling into smart meter stew.
I can’t see it, hear it, touch it, but I know it’s there,
zapping me, abusing with a pulsing flare.
Most say we have to take them,
boast on how much you’ll save,
after all, what’s another radio wave?
Radiation zaps with blackened grin,
industry and city ignore the din,
heart complaints and wheezing lungs,
same old song money’s always sung.
Meters with a brain, think way too much,
waves got a frying kind of Midas’ touch.
I can’t see it, hear it, touch it, but I know it’s there,
zapping me, abusing with a pulsing flare.
Most say we have to take them,
boast on how much you’ll save,
after all, what’s another radio wave?
If I wanted my house purple would they paint it red?
Shouldn’t I have a say where there are shades of gray?
I can’t see it, hear it, touch it, but I know it’s there,
zapping me, abusing with a pulsing flare.
Most say we have to take them,
boast on how much you’ll save,
after all, what’s another radio wave?
Radiation’s waves are burning away,
but after all, what’s another radio wave?
After all, what’s another radio wave?
After all, what’s another radio wave?
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