we weren’t meant
for the Internet.
to “know” people
thousands of miles away,
to “reconnect” with people
from high school
(except at reunions)
to evaluate
–and be evaluated by—
the masses deemed
haters, fans, or followers
(what happened to the lovers?)
–f*ck even the language is mutated
bellwether terms abbreviated,
and so knelling
(you can’t unring that bell)
because we are all so inundated
(here kitty, kitty Grumpy cat)
besieged by media
point and click
like and share
& comment and emoji
(the ugliest hieroglyphic)
and
we all gtg
(right the f*ck now)
and we all know we have to gtg
(awakwhtgtg)
because it’s right there
–on fuh beebs
on Instagram
on Snapchat
on an app as yet nascent, and
is that awkward?
not for long
NFL & sure
lol
which doesn’t mean lots of love
but loads and loads of derisive braying out loud laughter
–a nervous response, in an inundated world
such shallow-ed terms
–which rhymes with hallowed , and is its opposite
damned you know
when all dams are breaking loose
–f*ck, why can’t I just order all of life online?
why isn’t there an app for that yet?
(the tech titans are falling behind)
I want to print my pizza.
I want to post my need.
I want to stare at this screen until the final screen falls
–when my system is no longer compatible with new software
–when my epitaph reads like a meme.
Comments are closed.