Internet Internment
by Coltt Winter Lepley
Log in, password, start up…
Waiting, hating the time spent equating your precious wasted seconds.
The clock
Tick, tock, ticking, wi-fi connecting, frantically clicking
A slave to some search engine named after nonsense.
Wild animals corralled by a fence at the zoo. A question?
No, a google
No, a yahoo, a yelp, Yik-Yak, Kayak
Yes
Lunatics that click, seeking candlesticks on a crucifix, while you
Search politics, sexy chicks, or sickness to determine your sneeze means
You’re dying. Or a recipe for frying, or if your lover knows your lying.
About what?
Tinder, a fire started with a photograph and three lines, or a DM on a book of
Faces, or the loud tweet of a little birdy I once heard from.
And the ghost that I only see for 10 seconds at a time.
Who was friends with the dinosaur in a time machine.
What is this new norm? Sit in our dorms with a tool.
A tool to educate?
The ability to see the world, a poor point of view?
No.
A mindless portal to a Tube that You watch cat videos, and laugh at memes
And cut the vines, and admire instant posts on Insta,
And remember to turn your
Notifications on.
So just read this poem instead, and click the link in the bio below for more.