Staring at screens

scrolling. scrolling.

the loop keeps

getting shorter

closing in

closing

in

no closer

to the finish line.

“why did I come here?”

I forget

to ask myself

anymore, ever- ywhere I

go

I‘m robbed of

my biometeric ID

by dozens of cameras

streaming, storing

uploading to

A cloud or

on a server somewhere

with a roof,

and four walls,

air conditioning

and private security.

While people die outside and

there’s no hiding

The calamity or

the mundane

And the addiction

to crack -ed screen

protectors

And tragedy.

Scrolling into controversy

Like surfers paddle til they catch a wave

And beauty surrounds us

And ugliness engulfs our whims

Where death is entertainment

or a plot device to get rid of the most inconvenient character

Or maybe a bus load of them.

“that’s a shame” we say

but

We gripe if their doom lacks our preferred amount of suspense

or knows no scapegoat

No villain

needed to pursue

For endless

instant gratification.

I want to put it down but

Never

Seem to unfix my

pupils fixed to pixels

to pay rent

to buy bread

and gasoline

to determine the quickest route to Grandma’s house

despite traffic

Always traffic

And smog so thick we’re all smoking

Carbon monoxide

My cigarettes filter that shit though

and nobody gets out of here alive.