Land lines, phonographs, telex and hat racks,
Pagers and zip drives, typewriters, ****-
Cassettes and telegraphs, tape reels and 8-tracks,
Floppies and slide shows, mainframes that sang.

Boom boxes, slide rulers, portable TVs,
PDAs, Walkmans, the reel-to-reel spin,
Laserdiscs, cartridges, glowing CRTs-
All relics, all memories, fading within.

Yet in this museum of things left behind,
You stand beside me, astonishingly, real.
The world keeps on changing, erasing its kind,
But you, love, remain-what I touch, what I feel.