Poetry

Untethered

The air around my head is
fat with sopped up messages
I love yous
and who died
and angry political tirades
about one side or other
Words and thoughts
no longer confined
to race through
copper wires or
be imprinted by
pounding keys on paper
now surround me
continuously
The ether suffering
the assault of the
human virus
The very air itself
infected with
mindless invective
and the pressing
emergency to express
what’s on our plates
for lunch today
Wrecking our cars to
expound nothing at all
or what could
have waited days
to say or in truth
no one would ever
had said in the not
that distant past
when a walk to a
phone hanging on the
kitchen wall was
a prerequisite
to call
Now untethered
from our mooring
cords we announce
our every act as
abnormally important
There’s nothing for it
I suppose
We’ve become
emojis

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