Broken
Is Better Than Working
some of the time. If
it quit forever
stone dead we'd have to take action,
but this way our high-speed computer connection
flutters in and out of our lives
and dumps us back in the nine-hour
downloads and foot-tapping up-loads,
holding our breath, is it in, is it out,
and it isn't the wires in the street
says the company (how would we know?)
so Stan rewired under the house,
it could be any of ten connections he says—
I say it's the box we had to buy from the people
who charge us big bucks all the time
for dsl some of the time and the promise,
the lure, the maybe this time, and say
they won't talk with me
anymore, I don't know enough,
let them talk to Stan, when all I said
was describe the plug or otherwise
tell me which one you want me to pull
which they couldn't though it's their job,
talking to people who really need help
(discouraging people who really need help)
and the Mac Maven (tired of this discussion,
two years and counting) has told me the first
steps of getting an even faster connection
which may well work
though my cousin had trouble
and can't remember if the company's fixing
the wires in the street solved it,
and it's just like always: the hardware guy
says it's the software, the software guy says
it's the cables, the cable guy says
it's the hardware, and I will call up when I get
the nerve or completely sick of my non-
connection, occasional casual high-speed
like sex you can't go backwards connection
with my notes clutched firmly if somewhat sweated on
and say what he told me to say please sell me
a carefully memorized phrase in Etruscan
and they will ask though how should I know
I just take dictation please sell me electronic
Etruscan and they ask as my brother says they
always will as you clutch your soggy note (which
in this case says Bluetooth-V2.0-USB-Stick-
for-wireless-connectivity in Sumerian) and ask
they do: "With or without chutzpahs?"
—Susan
Rawlins