This generation was diagnosed
with a touch screen sadness:
Thumbprint faces
smudged and blurred
by the sideswiping of change
and ten megapixel selfies
out of focus but saved to the cloud.
Data error:
the server could not be reached.
Please check you network settings
and write this poem again.
This generation was diagnosed
with a touch screen madness:
Blue screens of death
a simulacrum of skies
tap tap tapping on glass.
The buzzing reply
anonymous legions breaking pixels.
Profiles in profile appear flat
until we take them at face value.
Eleven point arial sings
to be part of this world
riding invisible whitecaps
to hotspots
where heat of the hand meets cold metal and glass.
There is no cure but upgrades and patches.
Moving forward to move onWarning
Your battery is below ten percent
Battery saver has activated
Please plug in your device
Or this poem will shut down
1 comment:
Very true and very humorous to me. Ironically I read it on my phone :)
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