I Command-Space into Spotlight and search for Mr. Jones
Which drops me into iTunes where I feel quite at home.
I minimize the window, it shrinks until it's gone.
The hard drive slows it's spinning and my requested track comes on.
It plays for 4 : 3 3 and not a second more
I gently tap my foot, in rhythm on the floor.
Then lo my song is over and much to my surprise
A harpsichord is playing in calming 4/4 time.
I'm puzzled as a jigsaw and I Expose from the dock
I click on my friend iTunes and I drop a bin of socks.
I scrutinize the window, identify the band
Low and behold it's just the Kinks playing their Apeman.
If only I'd had Bowtie, running in the wings
Then Growl would have alerted me before I dropped my things
And rushed to my computer and fiddled with the mouse
And if I had the iPhone app I could walk about the house
Commanding all my speakers and all my iMacs too
To play the music that I want and rock out on the loo.
Poem by Regis Frey
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