Taxonomy of Nobodies

The old transistor radio in the corner
buzzed, hummed, crackled with static.

The orders came in, children reciting numbers.

“Defriend them all – no quarter”

The easiest were the fake ones,
barely protesting unlikes and blocks.

Some old friends from grade school kicked a fuss
“You have the funniest posts – can I subscribe to you?”

Aunt Sally wasn’t hard, at first, until she checked her page,
but she’d been dead for years, so “I thought you loved me”
sounded hollow to us, and we moved forward, down.

Scrolling and clicking.

Our old lovers were awkward – strung along by random friend requests,
hints of interest and the sad knowledge that
we could have been what we are with someone else, with each other,
and all of that.

The hardest ones were the celebrities –
you haven’t lived until you’ve had a Kardasian
posting hate notes to your walls.

Girl cannot spell. And goat is not a vowel.

At some point, he looked in the mirror, caught my eye
gazing at his reflection:
“Are we doing this for them, or for us?”

I knew then, the next step, almost taken, in mid-air.
as I clicked on his lovely face.

Advertisements

About Martin

I'm just... filling time.
This entry was posted in Poem, poetry and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s