Driving behind cars, you see them clearly,
ranged across glossy duco on boot lids.
Finger marks. As if some brute tune
were to be wrung from mere metal.
Where once a centrally positioned
handle sucked all hands to its chrome vortex,
now rear closure begins flathandedly
from anywhere along that closing rim.
Once you'd be roared at for touching
any such fine surface, metal or glass.
Today digits glide for hours over phones
and tablets. We pinch and paw at screens,
knowing all the while that gropes and smudges
may be wiped away with a damp cloth.
bw
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