Had I but world enough and time,
And “6 hours 20 minutes” download speeds were no crime.
I would sit down, and sleep all day
To wait, and pass our long dreadful day.
Located by Schoology’s side
Shouldst assignments find; I needn’t abide
For nobody would complain. I would
Love you from when I began to dropbox my assignment,
And you should, if you please, refuse to load
Till the day I turn eighty and I myself, overload.
My technological love should grow
Vaster than my range of download speeds and even more slow; An hundred years should go to praise
Thine monitor, and thy many displays;
Two hundred to adore each network diagnostic test,
But thirty thousand to the rest;
An age at least to every part,
And the last age should show you jumpstart.
For, wifi, you serve no due date,
Nor would I love at a lower rate.
But at my back I always hear
Mrs. Mulligan’s roars hurrying near;
And yonder all before me lie
Possible good grades waving goodbye.
My “submitted on time” notifications shall no more be found; Nor, on thy dusty router box, shall I attempt
To press the “ON” button; then network workers shall try
To provide and resupply,
And thy box will be thrown away,
And into a trash heap where thou may exhibit radioactive decay; The grave’s a fine and private place,
But none, I think, do there embrace.
Now therefore, while the bright green hue Shows on thy skin after a short queue,
And while thy willing soul transpires
At every pore with delayed fires,
Now let us sport us while we may,
And now, like amorous birds of prey,
Rather at once our time devour
Than languish in thy slow-chapped power.
Let us roll all our patience
And delete them all,
And load our way through this roulette,
Through the polycarbonate gates of this unpredictable internet: Thus, though we cannot make our sun
Stand still, yet I hope you’ll “run”.