The World’s Gone Bonkers (Since We All Went Online)
A Crazymad Poem by Someone Who’s Had Enough Wi-Fi
Once upon a saner time,
We’d write with pens—imagine the crime!
Now thumbs do tap and fingers swipe,
And talking’s swapped for “liking” hype.
The dog has TikTok, Mum’s on Zoom,
Dad live-streams himself in the loo.
Gran’s gone viral doing squats,
With hashtags like #KnitYourOwnTeaPots.
The fridge has Wi-Fi, the toaster too,
It knows your name, and your blood type too.
The mirror tells you you look sad—
(“Apply more blush, you silly lad!”)
Ding! goes the phone.
Ping! goes the watch.
Beep! says the toaster.
Snap! goes your crotch—
Because your smart jeans now detect
Too many pies? That gets a text.
People walk while texting fast,
Right into bins and duck ponds, SPLASH!
They film themselves while falling in,
Then cry, “Oh wow, I’ll post again!”
The baby’s named @Lil_Snacc,
He’s got a filter, six-pack abs.
The cat’s an influencer now,
With brand deals for organic chow.
We used to talk. We used to think.
Now Siri tells us when to blink.
“Alexa, what’s the point of life?”
She answers, “Please repeat your wife.”
Our minds are now a cloud-based mess,
We Google every minor stress.
Can’t sleep? There’s apps! Can’t cry? There’s bots!
Can’t love? Just swipe until it rots.
AI writes your granny’s will.
A drone drops off your sleeping pill.
We’ve screens for eyes, and wires for veins,
And autocorrect rewrites our brains.
Oh world, oh world, you pixelated freak!
You’ve swapped the meadow for a selfie streak.
The birds don’t tweet, the bees don’t hum—
They’re on Threads now, posting “Here we come!”
So switch it off—go out, get lost!
Climb a tree, no signal cost.
But if you fall—don’t dare complain…
Just film it, post it, dance again!
The Crazymad Writer Writes Again 