Techie Trek
We’re marching off for good
We’re marching off for glory
We’re sitting at our screens
We’re tapping out our story
No longer feel the sun – no
need to hear the rain – all
the world is streaming live
our flesh-blood tech’s gain
Hard to leave the access of
myriad manic possibility
wrenching to return to a
tactile linear reality
so watch the toddler
in the tide, convene
with covens of mystic
friends you now hold
dear – nothing to be
lost – nothing here to
fear – for
We’re marching off for good
We’re marching off for glory
We’re sitting here in shing glare
We’re screening our life story –
~
~
an oxymoron
the ubiquitous touchscreen
feeling not a thing
~
~
she
fashioned a life to
live in quiet walking in
her head by the sea in
glorious lush languid sigh-
lence – drinking coffee iced
or steamed as care and cli-
mate suggested – and so it
was – though books shone
through screen light and
binging watching television
a new magnetic attraction –
her words flowed not in liquid
ink but on bright screens at
fingertips always clean – she
sat
inhaling ions – under the
glare and when she inter-
acted it was all screened
brightly until her eyes seared
and stripped burned – until her
fingers trembled with tremor
as the all embracing light
turned magnetically malevo-
lent and she reached for actual
aluminum to fashion herself a
hat to protect herself from the
terror of too much, too bright,
too near, too bloodless, scent-
less ephemerality reality –
slipping through cracks
of sunless light
and in the still
she sits alone
tin hat on head
waiting for life
to reboot –
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