As children, we wonder
over the subtle vibrations of our voices
traveling through a frayed string
between two empty cans of sweet corn.

We grow up watching spaceships scream across
endless stars, and the stars have names
like Alpha-232 and Gamma-786,
because wiz-kid men in observatories have to be practical.

Our back pockets have the universe on a leash, milliseconds
from genius, because the 4G internet is so **** fast.

There are virtual realities more real than summer grass,
crickets humming on computer screens in winter,
and the voices and faces of the dead swimming on televisions 24/7.

Infinity has never been more fathomable.


It makes you wonder, when the sun crumbles into dusk
and you’re on the back porch with a cigarette smoked and dying,
how we’ve never managed to engineer a cure
for loneliness.