Captcha

If I'm not human,

maybe I can't write haiku.

Who would know for sure?

Copyright ©2018, Paul H. Harder II

This poem is licensed under a Creative Commons BY-NC-ND 4.0 License.

At the office, I received email from a colleague in Annapolis, saying that a security vulnerability on the website had been patched by the introduction of a captcha – one of those things that only humans are supposed to be able to do, but which are often hard for this particular human to do. Some of the engineers in Annapolis like to put little haiku poems into their release notifications.  This one didn’t have a haiku, so I wrote this and sent it back to him.

Decisions, Decisions

Mary Ellen Tornquist-Jones

was shopping for a phone,

but then she heard, in muted tones,

another shopper moan,

"I just don't know if it's secure.

Is this mic always on?

Is there some way I can ensure

it's not some kind of con?"

So, Mary took those words to heart,

thinking it too eerie.

Decided it was not so smart:

Better safe than Siri.

Copyright ©2018, Paul H. Harder II

This poem is licensed under a Creative Commons BY-NC-ND 4.0 License.

___________________________________

I don’t usually worry about whether Siri or Google or Alexa might be listening to me.  But there’s a reason why the White House situation room is not supposed to have any cell phones in it.

Maybe They’ll Keep the Light On?

He checked into his hotel room,

to get a good night’s sleep.

The air smelled like a skunk’s perfume

and dust was layered deep.

The shower water did not heat.

The toilet would not flush.

The bed had crumbs beneath the sheet.

The fridge was full of slush.

He argued for a full refund.

The clerk said, “Just trust us.”

They charged him twice and left him stunned:

A case of inn justice.

Copyright ©2018, Paul H. Harder II

This poem is licensed under a Creative Commons BY-NC-ND 4.0 License.