EAGLES AND AMAZONS

What is this World Wide Web thing?

I asked my American friend, feeling slightly daft,

Yet unable to contain my sneeze of curiosity any longer.

Please be seated, she replied,

Pointing to the black leather swiveller

Facing her computer,

Her gesture calm and accommodating,

Unlike the scornful scoffs splashed upon me

When, in sixth grade, I asked one of the popular girls what shit meant,

And ascended the throne of Dorkville,

Where half of me still remains,

Albeit joyfully so.

What is this Internet bookshop thing?

My husband asked me, not feeling the slightest bit daft,

His tone suggesting a blend of amusement and irritation

Over the frequency of brown parcels

Containing English books

Deposited in our Swiss letterbox.

Please be seated, I replied,

Pointing to the white leather swiveller

Facing my computer,

Where I delightedly dialled up

The World Wide Web

And presented him with a little-known website named

Amazon.

“It’ll never work!” he exclaimed,

Whereupon my spirits slithered a little

At the notion of my newfound, regular supply of books

Screeching to a sudden stop.

Because how could someone with

Half a bum-cheek still firmly smushed

On the Throne of Dorkdom

Argue with

The smarts

Of an international legal eagle?

How indeed?!

Buy me a coffee!