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♥ Millennial Style


I need to be

win-dicated,

swell-i-dated,

unswitchable &

accounted 4

–times over. . .

No thumbs up,

or thumbs down,

but all thumbs &

all over–

clumsily. . .

I wish to be

added

& oared

in

life, love

&

boat style,

No pretext,

or subtext,

just context in

all’out

fashion. . .

I want an

app

to

‘prove me,

‘laud me,

and

‘prize me

–with all the whistles and bells that

open

floor

&

end

doors—

–is what I want

(to be clear)

iScreen…uScreen…we all…(fuq it) etc…

ipodspin

we are all

palm readers now,

our life line

infinitely extended

courtesy of Apple—

the one Eve gave Adam?

the one that’s GMO?

the one that evil bitch gave Snow?

the one that guarantees a doctor a day?

the one juicing your eye?

hard to say, teary, dearie

–but easy enough to Google…

(something like…..a million hits)

shopping around Window-busting deals

on Girdles of Venus

(for Amazons)

our daily diagnosis

jovian finger

>close<

our daily dose of

fate

a line or 2 away

handy!

our next best thing

a digital nail nearby

if you know how to read code…

Located near the thumb, the little known “pop-up” line

(developed this century)

along with the knee-jerk

diverts US for hours

tic-tic-tic

from the reality of life—

so tastelessly un-virtual,

and altogether too hands on

it’s what happens when

you’re busy clicking other plans…

Curiouser & Curiouser

 

We are all of us

hooked to a hookah,

pressed close against

meshed & changing screens

splicing synapses and

—sharing a distraction—

Some from atop a

mushroom

(cloud)

high and other

asking

who—who

who are you?

when statistically speaking

they’d rather

you know who it is

they are…

And if the caterpillar

already ensconced

is discovered it’s

 strung up,

(of course)

discreetly

or blatantly

(but instantly)

In killing transformation…

Some partake

of smoke and mirrors

from the shade of

fan-cooled adulation!

Entrenched within

Motherboard’s

mushroom gills,now—

pressed

pinned

promoted

perennially tied to her

hookah strings…

Spouting fictitious ideologies

so sophomoric

and magically delicious

they are slapped with

FDA approved labels

advising it’s best to:

Eat Me.

Some stay buried

—deep underground—

rooted in rot

favored by

swine

—better with wine—

otherwise known as

fun guy…

or girl, maybe?

It makes no difference.

Not a truffling bit of difference

to thumbnail interaction

with digitized faction.

so long as it’s transcribed

in appropriate type

—that banners

a landscape

—that features

a cat

(or dog)

in priceless, period fashion…

Since we are all of us

hooked to a hookah,

coiling snake-like

from meshed & changing screens,

stunting synapses and

—sharing an addiction—

a Behind the Screens Look

social_newtworking

texting

(these days)

dominates,

while face

booking

dot.com.inates,

& tweeting

–tho’ a form I hate–

is proper

twitter·quette.

 

Linked in is

de·fence to

Gates,

& i’m’ing

increases

rate,

of need for specious

speech or prate,

that’s thick

on internet.

 

e-mailing

kiboshes

freight–

on letters posted–

lessens weight,

it gratifies!

(it gluts)

it sates.

it’s quickened

chitter-chat.

 

emojis, then,

express your

~state~

that acronyms

abbreviate,

those irksome words

that take up

space,

in click & post

verknack.

©KR

Grunt Work

Curly Q’zzz…

Charron's Chatter

stars-crossed

our relationship can’t move forward.

Not until you convert:

: (

to

: )

&

incomplete equations

to

< 3

emojis…

Otherwise?

Karen Robiscoe dba CHARRONs CHATTER

how will I know what you mean?

prompt: punctuation

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