Plugged In

By Brady Gill


It started with an ad on the TV screen:

Plug In to yourself!

Whatever could it mean?

The problem it stated was with our devices

Running out of power their only vices

 

The solution quite simple, but hard to believe

A plug you installed just under your sleeve

And from your spirit you were able to charge

Your gizmos and gadgets when you were at large

 

“Installation is free!” The TV screen bragged

“Don’t be the last,” it beckoned and nagged.

“Why not?” it concluded, “It comes at no cost!

It’s not like your soul could ever be lost!”

 

People ran from their houses

Raced from their apartments

Sprinted from work and their tight cubed compartments

Their destination the same, their desire untamed

To the place where their lives would forever be changed

 

One by one they went in, all holding their cash

Looking back so relieved that they weren’t the last

One by one they came out with two little slits

On their wrist

And the words

“My Spirit Outlet”

 

And even before they had time to get home

Together they tethered themselves to their phones

Then charging their phones as they walked through their doors

Everyone found that they just wanted more

 

So back they all went, now stuck to their fate

Back for the latest and greatest update

 

It was much like the wrist

But this had a twist

Quite quickly developing huge waiting lists

 

A gigantic demand

Across the whole land

For the plug you could plug in the palm of your hand

 

And now came the choice of what else to charge

A tablet

A camera

Or something quite large

 

A computer. . .

Which part?

Hard drive or the screen?

Two weren’t enough, “It’s time we got three!”

 

A mob starting forming all calling for more

Outside the silver building, behind the silver door

 

“More?” asked the installers with a wink and a shrug

“What if you CHOOSE where you install your plug?”

 

The people rejoiced and all were “Installed”

The Plug Boom began or so it was called

 

Plugs on their arms, and their feet, and their legs

Plugs on their toes, and their fingers and heads

 

Plugs all over

As many as could fit

To keep their TVs talking

To keep their night lights lit

 

And in between two rows of plugs on their arms

They all had a meter that measured in bars

The power possessed to use as a charge

Ten bars was great

One bar was bad

Everyone ranked by the bars that they had

 

“He treats me so well, he’s witty and smart!”

“Yes,” said the mother, “But how many bars?”

 

The surge of delight from running it all

Turned to urge and fright that their bar count might fall

 

The town came together making city compliances

No excess powering except all appliances

 

No running, no jogging, not even a skip

Only sitting in cars when making a trip

 

No jumping, no kicking

Play was deemed “rotten”

The outside was banned and almost forgotten

 

Life became cameras, and screens, and phones

And knowing the world without leaving your home

And too late now the truth had been shown

Cords kept them connected, but truly alone

 

"And that’s where they went"

Said a tree to the lawn

Explaining where all of the people had gone

 

“Who knows,” said the tree with a rustling shrug

“Maybe someday they’ll all learn to unplug”

 

Copyright © 2015 Brady Gill, All Rights Reserved