Autocorrect, #2

A couple of people have asked to be able to read the words to my youtube poem, “If Autocorrect were your teacher…”

So, here it is! Click the link here: Autocorrect to watch the video.

Thanks to everyone who is tweeting and sharing and liking… isn’t it ironic, but it’s quite fun too! 🙂


If autocorrect were your teacher…

Homework would be obsolete,

How bittersweet

To hit delete

When the teacher begins to browbeat

Your tormented soul with…


Knowledge is in the shiny wee device vibrating in your pocket.

Is that your phone, or are you just happy to see… your selfie?

With a plethora of gadgets beeping and clicking these days,

It comes to me, in my middle-aged haze,

That the youth of today are becoming dependent,

On a new form of teacher, so much more resplendent

Than I am… sporting my cardigan and pince-nez frames…

No one knows what those are, but I like to throw out words that confound.




(student madly googles to determine definition, defying cognition,

their brain’s ignition turned to…


Your teachers grew up in a world non-digital,

And forgive me if I sound hypercritical,

But if you can’t spell “there, they’re, and their” its unforgivable,

And the consequences are… unthinkable

if we lose our language thanks to… Autocorrect.

Oh… and did I neglect,

As my thoughts roll on, unchecked,

To show respect,

To the technological mastery our modern wee prodigies lay claim to?

In my failure to connect,

The dots

Between wiki, google, wifi, insta, snap, face, twit, tumble, redd, kijij, bbm, message, lol, ttyl, and brb and tmi and… who am I…?

Who am I…? To judge?

I tweet, therefore I am.

If Autocorrect were your teacher there would be no red pen.

No need to defend

The error of your ways,

when you can blame the machine.

Autocorrect is a librarian stoked on caffeine,

Mainlining codeine,

Spreading verbosity like gangrene

Not using it would be like going back to the Pleistocene,

When no one could f***ing spell anyway…

Students have been making corrections before corrections were cool.

If Autocorrect were your teacher, there would be no grading,

No effort at persuading

You to learn.

Of course it’s not degrading,

For your brain to be masquerading,

As a constantly upgrading

interface, gently serenading

Your ego.

“It’s ok not to know. You have Autocorrect.”

If Autocorrect were your teacher, then Google would be your God,

Or at least a favorite uncle who brings you candy.

And cat videos.

And porn.

A highly useful education.

But let us not adorn

This benevolent presence with a mantle of scorn,

For I would be foresworn

To pretend that I have not indulged in a wee dabble of digital delinquency despite the debilitating dependency degrading my dendrites daily with despair every time I google…

“What rhymes with porn?”

“How do you make curried shrimp?”

“What are the lyrics to that new Miley song?”

Sure, I sing-a-long.

I know the tune.

Google knows all.

Autocorrect will save me,

Or not

when I try to spell formulate… but it gives me fornicate.

When I try to tell my dad I was meditating, but it gives me menstruating…

When I want to say something gentle, but it gets all genital

Up in my grill.

No one will blame me…

If autocorrect is my teacher.

Dear Autocorrect,

I mean no disrespect,

in suggesting you’re imperfect.

I only wish to protect

The developing intellect

Of the youth whom you misdirect.

Perhaps your influence is indirect,

And while I vivisect

Your flaws

I fail to reflect

On the bigger picture.

It’s not your fault.

It’s ours.

It’s the moms and dads, the teachers, the politicians, the bottom line, the upper crust, the high life, the how-low-can-you-go, the quick fix, the middle of the road, the …

…the idea that Life is a drive-thru window.

Biggie size my fries, extra ketchup, twelve pounds of bacon on my burger and don’t forget my pickle.

And I want it now.

I’ll eat in my car.

You should have to work harder than that.

It’s not Autocorrect, that blameless pedagogue of thoughtless authority,

Appealing to the majority,

Providing information logically,

And, perhaps, blamelessly…



Autocorrect gives me “medicare” for mediocrity.

“Compose” for complacency.

“In vireo” for incurious.

When I spell them wrong. On purpose. Just to see.

“There is no excuse for medicare when the population is composed of in vireo individuals who fail to menstruate for the well-being of their genital souls.”

Thanks Autocorrect.

That makes perfect sense.

If autocorrect were your teacher…

Oh wait… you missed what I was just saying?

Because you felt compelled,

To check facebook, twitter, tumbler, reddit, and kijiji?

While tapping into your credit card for your Kim K game?

And beating the next level of Candy Crush?

Someone’s texting you?

You just got a snap chat that’s hilarious?

While I was trying to teach you how to spell “there, their and they’re”…?

I fear my position is precarious,

And while it may seem ridiculous

That these addictions make me nervous,

I fear the situation is serious.

We’re all becoming delirious.



But we don’t have to be.

Put down your phone,

LOOK at each other.


We don’t have to pay the price

Of dependency on a device

Our brains may be imprecise

But they will suffice

And the best advice

I’ve ever heard didn’t come from my phone,

My ipad,

My twitter feed,

It came in a time of need

And it has become my creed…

You CAN learn stuff.

You already have ENOUGH

Of whatever it is you need to be able to LEARN.

It’s time to make a u-turn.

And I’m not telling you to spurn


You can’t. I can’t. No one wants to.

But when the zombies come scratching at your cave door, baby,

I hope you can google ‘apocalypse’,

Because I know autocorrect can’t fix friendships,

It can’t support you in hardships,

It won’t win you apprenticeships, or partnerships,

Or soft lips,

That whisper ‘I love you’,

When the lights go out.

Compared to the power of your brain,

Technology is mundane.

It is the novocaine

On the root canal of society’s forebrain.

And yes, you may have to bluff

When times get rough,

But you’re tough.

Learn stuff.

Google is NOT your God.

Autocorrect is NOT your teacher.

Life is.

Turn IT on.

Turn Autocorrect OFF.

Learn something.

It’s the only way to defeat the zombies.


PicMonkey Collage

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