1 FEBRUARY 1963, Page 25

Consecration of the Computer

You're nothing but a pack of cards Like great grey rats with their electric whiskers The hungry morons eat our lives in seconds. The sinister doctor breaks down and is led away By a kindly ham4er.

Their teeth, intelligence and spectacles collated • Fhe middle•L'aged met suddenly with welfare Blink out through standard rims, their smart teeth smile Shocked with the charm and enlightenment, Frying to feel enlightened.

And we who flattered ourselves we understood With Dracula and the werewolves in the damp house Exchange galvanic grins or far from home Listen for terrible feet clumping up the glacier. The small cards whirr up to find their places, The dumb girls punch a spaced intelligence From inscrutable codes, punching our schools and payrolls,

Checking the -births, sixpenny contributions, And mysterious pains for which we failed to sign.

Though Alice in her dream could shuffle these Grin remains grin, cat remains separate.