"These days from all around me, I hear of 'windows' and a 'mouse', of brand names, some are 'Apple', wish I knew what it's about. I hear they've some connection, with strange things they call computers, which will give you all the answers, but to me they're just confusers. I've seen folk press some buttons, words appear and sometimes numbers, they seem to spring from nowhere — it surely makes me wonder. Sometimes I've asked a question, they just turn to this machine, press a button here, a button there, they find the answer there, it seems. It's really quite amazing, they don't even have to think, they tell me what I want to know, I don't have time to even blink. One day I'll look right through the window, perhaps I'll see before my eyes, this mouse they always talk about, for he must be very wise." —Hilda B. York, of Millers Point, fascinated by what she reads in Icon, was moved to write this poem, 1998