Ode to Very Small Devices

As fairies for the Irish or leeks for Welsh,it’s the secret lives of small hidden machines,their junctures, and networks that inspire me:Mystic hidden functionaries that makeour made world live, brave little servo motors,whose couplers, whose eccentric fire-filledsensors are encased in bakelite with brassscrews, who stare with red eyes, who gauge moisture,who notice tiny motions and respond,whose cooling fans call out in white-noiseregisters like older folk singers–I canalmost hear their earlier songs, their strong voicesnow yelps, their thumps, their throbs, their hum, their chant–,they click, they whir, they are sent spinninginside like teen girls giggling over boy bands.Most of all: ones waiting silently, concealingthe surprise of their purpose, tasks not yet known,their true natures found only in connections.Those that listen, those that speak,those that control cool and heat,those that open doors, those that lockall the things that we’ve forgot,those that hide, those that