Predictive

 

good morning

my predictive companion

lacking opinions

tirelessly suggesting the next word

as if language were a wind-up machine

knows the right word from the best word

its algorithms from its onions

and may be turned off at will

at the settings menu

 

good afternoon

so original

it might be thought well-meaning

jogs my finger for the best choice

while my mind races with bon mots

yet to enter its vocabulary

with a fanfare of vowels

its music is all the palaver

I’ve heard before

and lacking the personal persiflage

 

good evening

this is no joke

this is the grey that could turn to black

non-person of non-description

its choice is always prosaic

a smorgasbland

menu please

of literally the most predictable phrases

it is seemingly polite, for a cipher

and incapable of a typo

 

good night

predictable I suppose

is what to expect and who? did I?

invite this dull companion on board?

its hints all fail at funny

doggedly it states the obvious

this was going to be a different day

until predictive text got in the way

anticipating my every thought

shadowing the light of the mind