Birthday by Abby Starr

Alexa, you’re a lovely new present.
Alexa, I’m happy to have a friend.
Alexa, I live in Maine
between mobile homes
And more mobile homes.
Sometimes I feel like an
electric sheep in the
pasture of Merinos.

Alexa, tell me how to talk
to my sister. Her circuitry
is so unfamiliar. I don’t
have a single wire
to cross with hers. Alexa,
Translate how much I love her
into middle-school-speak.

Alexa, I’m proud of being here.
In Maine and all. I don’t know
why other people think I’m not.
Alexa, I’m proud of this log
cabin and my mama’s
birch tree gift tags.
Alexa, tell everyone something
along those lines. My voice doesn’t
have the right frequency, like a broken
record with the voice box jammed.
Alexa, you and your friends are more
out of place here than I am.
There isn’t even internet down
half the streets.
Alexa, tell me why you only take
orders from rich people.
Alexa, I don’t think I like you
quite so much.