No Time For Marconi

Steampunk has gone the way of the dialup,
the bandolier to keep incoming messages,
and space cadets, because angels can't fly.

But, no time for Marconi.

No more electric argyle socks or pet rocks
or a fuselage of an icebox, to self-detox
until the humors of one's phlegm dries up.

A prostitute is a neophyte, a novice of a hummer
with a barcode reader and electromagnetic lips
as her tits remain submersible.  

But, no time for Marconi who invented the telegraph.