Internet Explorer

I search for videos of chameleons,
primitive, blissful and hard..
I search for Shakespeare’s sonnets,
and for the modern bard.
I electronically live in Hawaii,
where I would like to be
I search for a soul companion,
and the sexual pleasures of pee-
then I try "piss."
I search for a modern Trajan,
and read the speeches of Howard Dean.
I search for Zen Bhuddist teachings,
and solicit a much needed career.
I search for soft arms to hold me,
someone pretty, witty and near.
I search for something to sustain me,
for I know my journey has failed;
This is not the India after which I quested:
exotic, warm, full of spices and sparkling jewels.
Rather, it is a strange and harsh land which does not need me,
a land of brilliant summers but snowy winters .
with natives with their own loyalties and blood codes,
stalked by corporate predators massive and fearsome..
No, I may look at the colorful,
many faced products of the modern world;
I may read about new history books but not leaf through comforting pages.
I may bask in the scientific sun of Discover but only with screen-burnt eyes.
I may dreamily follow tennis,
which in more privileged days I used to play,
but must remain ignorant of groundbreaking articles about the sensational Schrichipan.
I may post my creative writing but usually find only trickling, unsympathetic response.
Nonetheless, oh internet,
you silicon god of the modem world,
I celebrate you.
I don't know if I should
but I am one of these pink apes
who fashion the world to fit our dreams,
and though our sleep is nearing death,
still, hidden amid a wasteland of junk,
in .org tribes and bohemian clans,
you can still find those colorful dreams,
those dens where the wild things live,
that are the only hope for our brave new world.