You are Here

I find myself in cul-de-sacs
With buildings tall around my spot
Preventing data services
From reaching Maps, which doesn’t load.
I’ve lost my way to confidence,
Even to ask of those around
The route to get to somewhere safe
To somewhere with a WiFi strength
That stops the spinning wheel of life.
Though, was it not dependence on
Instructions from a trusted source,
Without the use of common sense,
Which got me to the cul-de-sacs?
And yet I seek the comfort still
Of answers at my fingertips,
Without discerning on my own
The merits of decisions mine?
And yet I ask a stranger’s voice
Encoded with the knowledge of
The masses pouring their insides
Into the brain decentralized
In service of the masters few
Who mine these private pourings to
Extract the excess wealth of all?
So, where am I, the actual I,
Beyond the bios, pics, and texts?
My Maps is not so helpful when
It points an arrow, “You are here.”

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