Electronics

To make up my mind
I have to repair yours
Restoration is a grating primadonnna cyclone
And naiveté is no excuse for rash condemnations that burn down my home
This connection is an electronic explosion
Of chip boards, wires, and a redirected hum of the power it holds
Everything was expressionistic
Everything was intricate, intimate at least
Nothing has ever been so masochistic
as trying
to help people
to not replace them out of boredom
Your rationale needs to reboot
Your dreary declarations need to degauss
You sear me with expectations-that only bring loss