Back in touch with virtual reality,
fingers caress the keyboard
and the screen
(the gentle, intimate touch of lovers),
plugged in the earphones and became
part of the circuit,
electrons zipped into one ear
and were discharged from the other.

Put aside the world for an hour
or two (lost track of time;
it flies when you spend it
with love interests);
drowned self in a smaller /
larger world of blue glowing
screens and perpetual music.
One thousand million songs.
Free. Click. Here. Now.

All you lovely strangers so much
more real than real,
so cool and artistic and how I
wish I could write poetry like you.
How I wish.

Open the door and observe:
the human component of
a full parallel circuit.
Exchange and exchange.
Fixated on a blank screen.
Tapping foot to invisible sound.
Typing faster than would talk.

Close the door.
Walk away.