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The Rime of the Apple Customer

                It is an Apple Customer
                And he stoppeth one of three.
                'By thy hipster beard and thick-framed eye
                Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?

                The Genius Bar has opened just
                And I've a job to do;
                The pre-booked patrons congregate:
                May'st see the length'ning queue.'

                He holds him with his skinny hand,
                'But my iPhone...' quoth he.
                'Hold off! unhand me, on-trend loon!'
                Eftsoons his hand dropt he.

                He holds him with his thick-framed eye --
                The Genius stood still,
                And listens like a three years' child:
                The Customer hath his will.

                The Genius sat on a stool:
                He cannot choose but hear;
                And thus spake on that Bright Eyes fan,
                The lean-limbed Customer.

                'The launch date neared, the ads appeared;
                The evening before
                I chained my fixie to the rack
                And camped outside the store.

                The Sun came up upon the left,
                And I was first in line!
                The phone shone bright, at last in sight,
                And -- moments later -- mine...

                Higher and higher soared my pride,
                All synced and set by noon--'
                The Genius here beat his breast,
                For he heard the queuers moan.

                His manager hath paced the floor
                Red as a pimpernel;
                Shaking their heads about him goes
                The angry clientele.

                The Genius he beat his breast,
                Yet he cannot choose but hear;
                And thus spake on that modish man,
                The tight-jeaned Customer:

                'It ate rechargeable lithium-ion;
                Stored 2-to-the-7 gig;
                Cased in Space Grey; HD display;
                Screen 5-point-5-inches big.

                And in the weeks 'twixt then and now
                The phone did organise me;
                At first I felt silly, conversing with Siri--
                Now naught so gratifies me.

                And ne'er again should I be lost
                With such a faithful guide;
                And ne'er again should I be bored
                With my music collection,
                And 4G connection,
                And socially-networked urbane interaction,
                And much more beside, by my side.'

                'Thy warranty preserve thee, sir,
                From the fiends, that plague thee thus!--
                Why look'st mournful?'--'Down the toilet bowl
                I dropped my iPhone 6 Plus.'

                Carolyn Whitnall, 2014 (With apologies to Coleridge! Well, apologies to everyone, really...)

"Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal" ... and where, well, yes. Quite. (Cf. Matthew 6:19-21)

[Thumbnail image cc from Lucius Kwok on Flickr]