You are a facebook status:
hope, beyond
hope
someone will understand
how it is you feel
how it feels to be you
looking for someone
to open up a dialog
to comment
or to even like the thing.
Please,
troll my page.
Cryptic, inane
small creatures
all a clumping mass
can’t make no bones about it
hide nor hair of
an owl pellet bolus.
You are a facebook status:
Spread your wings,
make like Ben Franklin and go fly a kite.
“Shoot for the moon because
even if you miss you’ll still land among the stars.”
Ben always said.
Yes, but you’ll also
be hurtling
through the cold,
lifeless reaches
of space
because he also said
“Don’t believe everything you read on the internet.”
You are a facebook status:
song, being sung
just the right line
makes it yours
because you feel it
in the music
and it speaks to you.
Yet, like a child,
you can’t.
All the life
has been bleached
from your bones
creativity picked clean
and your tombstone says it all:
There lies so-and-so.
They took what they
knew
but they didn’t even
know themselves
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