Thunderbolt: a hardware interface to connect devices to a computer

Our ride is a rickety tray trolley that jumps at the bumps in the carpet
Of a classy restaurant, rattling the plates and forks and leftover crumbs. 
Plate tectonics of our spines too much for those old and falling apart. Peak 
Hour chaos as we rush from ground to ground. Ceramic screeching. Engine sputtering
—Are we stuck and dying?

Our equipment is a patient hooked up on miracles with wires incompatible
And bruising on our cross-country emergency ambulance ride. Wringing
Our hands by the bed side: please let it work. The connection 
Comes lose like a splayed squid and we stuff it back. Don’t mind if it dies
—Who are we kidding?

Our computer oversees everything as the overlord watches his domain
Of grids and crooked slaves. We point and lase to take down the targets
And hope it is accurate as we extend into a common battlefield that 
Sinks beneath our biting boots and drag our ankles like weeping girls
—“Please don’t go my love!”

Everything is about connection. We run to connect one soppy ground to the 
Next and try not to drown in a puddle of toad eggs. We run to fly the white flag
Of tape and poles like a dreadful head of medusa, or a streaking thunderbolt 
In the blindness of the night.