Let's say I need a thingamajig that flips
and slips and grips and nips. A tool,
perhaps, or just a treasure. Those trips

to stores, now obsolete, I simply Google
a key phrase of action or appearance
sought. Amazon appears atop the whirlpool

of websites listed (of course), coherence
constant in their quest to draw me, lure
me and my credit card. Perseverance

pays, and I discover that a simple tour
with clicks or swipes pays dividends.
The thingamajig has a name, obscure

perhaps, but now I know it! I look up trends
(using the real name for this thing I covet)
and go to reviews to see who recommends

Brand A over Brand B, and why they love it.
Now, with confidence, I search once more
and (fully done with Amazon, sick of it,

I leave it like last year's textbook, stored
for future research), a click or two, I find
an exciting new company in which to pour

my hard-earned dollars. I may be resigned
to pay some extra pennies for shipping,
wait a week or two, but I don't mind

And I don't have to be a member, committed
to a CEO who makes more per minute
than I take home all year. Life seems rigged,
but I'm happy. I order my thingamajig.  
 

This poem first appeared in Rattle (Summer 2020).
Used here with permission.