An Almost-True Almost-Poem
by Thomas I. Benton
I did a dangerous thing, vulgar and crass.
My pristine fingertips upon the keyboard typed the phrase
and the google machine answered the question I posed,
the wrong question,
I have a day job to not have to ask that question.
"how do i make money from my website" gives an answer,
sets a price too high for what you can buy.
(I swear, the idea to ask came from somewhere else, please forgive a guy for wondering)
"CTR!" the Internet answered, "Keyword density and SEO!"
"Pick your topic shrewdly!" the Web continued. "Personal finance,
that's where the money is--write about 401ks and re-fis,
then watch the dollars roll in!" (don't ask from whom)
"First debase your treasures, then hide them behind walls made from mouse clicks:
you need page views."
I considered the knowledge delivered to my eyes,
immersed amongst banner ads and huckster spiels, and then
I closed the browser tab and said "fuck off" to the Internet,
and I wrote an almost poem with no SEO.