Technology makes it so easy to be intimate despite having voids of separation between souls, Taking tiny screens and filling them with the image of joy, Talking at it for hours on end, Burning the night away into bliss, and yet...
“When I was in graduate school when I Was at Oxford when I was working on My doctorate at the Sorbonne when I Was on my fellowship when I was hiking
The Andes on my gap year learning from The Colourful Natives when I received The Something-Something Prize for Young Poets From The Oppressed Grant Recipients’ Front…”
One notices that
Literary articles never begin with “When I was busting my knuckles on the drilling rig…”