The endless flow of kilobytes
Addicts them to the Internet
At 4 am.
All have forsaken REM
To bind their carpal-tunnel hands
To sticky keys,
To fix their eyes on laptop screens
At 4 am.
The World Wide Web's corruption taints
All members of humanity
Except for me.
Because I'm deep. Because I am
My browser comes to consciousness
That Sam is "bored."
"It's Complicated" with his wife.
And seven SuperPoke invites
Grow stale beside
A message from that guy I met
In the elevator when I was going to get my driver's license renewed. Among
The countless missives and invites
For useless apps,
One is hard-pressed to find
A friend request today.
But it's cool. I'm okay.
You sat with my laptop before you,
With frown and folded arms you waited
For pleas for absolution for
The thousand sordid images
I viewed through Google.
. . .
. . .
Thatís what I'm supposed to say, right?
I don't mind sleeping on this couch
In front of the apartment building
Beside the vacant lot she won
From me in the divorce proceedings
argh how'd she get everything
On which my thoughts would settle if
I weren't so busy leveling up
My soul stretched tight across the Web
Confined to dim computer screens,
And passed over for friend requestsó
Not that that means that much to me.
The acrid poison of Web Two
Point Oh does not pollute my veins,
Though I still have to check my spam
And Profile page before it rains.
Wrap your arms round your stolen Wi-Fi, and kvell,
For the world does not revolve around
Those Facebook whores with vacant lots.
Sent as a joke to PoetryAmerica