Please Make It Less for Me

プロンプト

I built a home of futuristic grace, To make the mundane simpler to embrace. I linked the coffee pot to greet the dawn, So cups would fill the moment I yawned. Instead, my Wi-Fi thought I cried for aid, And blasted sea shanties at five, dismayed. The music sent my cat into a spin, A furry torpedo with claws drawn thin; She skidded hard across the timber floor, And launched my phone through open glass once more— Right in the fish tank! Where the goldfish peered, And bought a gardening mag, to my weird. I tried to turn the smart plugs off by hand, And caught a shock that altered all my glands; My internal clock reset with sudden spark, I sorted black socks in the early dark: "The Moody," "Deep Abyss," and "Slightly Dust"— Until I knew I'd missed my bus, I must! I snatched my keys and sprinted through the street, With one plush slipper on my formal feet. A pigeon watched me from the engine hood, And coughed a corporate sigh where statues stood. I got inside; the screen flashed up in red: "Update Required: Your Car Is Sad," it said. I drove in silence, dodging all emotion, To feed the office machine its daily potion. The lobby doors refused my weary face, The guard whispered, "Release the ghost embrace." I puffed my chest and walked with CEO pride— Straight through the glass wall standing right beside! A potted fern shed leaves in pure distress, While I crept onward to my desked address, Where three hundred emails on synergy alignment Demanded immediate corporate confinement. To cope, I bit a bruised and battered fruit, While breakroom microwaves began to toot. A circle formed around a Hot Pocket's doom, Rotating slowly in the fluorescent gloom. The timer chimed; a coworker drew out A crater filled with synthetic doubt, And offered me a bite of nuclear cheese, Which I declined with trembling, polite ease. Then blue screens flashed, a paperclip inquired If my whole soul had suddenly expired. I slammed the lid, put on my winter coat, And wrote off adulthood as a sinking boat. A gust of wind whipped off my baseball cap, And crowned a bronze war hero in my lap— Now looking like he’s headed for a rave. I tipped my hat, defeated, brave, And marched back home to cut the power clean, And broke the heart of every smart machine. How do you like this poetic spin on the chaotic day?