what time was it
what was your age
when you first found out
that it's all just staged
from their instagram account
to their facebook page
it's all just made up
so they are not upstaged
they exaggerate their life
as their followers rose
they take a hundred shots
to get the perfect pose
so don't get caught up in it
you're not missing out
these apps intend to create needs
and to fill your life with doubt
be aware as you scan your feeds
it might be time to log-out
repeat this line just as it reads
i am not missing out

You have to start somewhere
You have to start somehow
At rock bottom
You cannot go down

Just do something
Forget the pressure to be successful
This fake exceptionalism you see on social media
Meaningless influencers and food for ego

Listen to your intuition and forget the noise
The bird that tweets the loudest is not the most productive
You just need to be the one with the strongest wings
Resilience is key

i.
the blinds are bars
and the window is a rotating theatre
of people, life, the grind.

ii.
i behind it;
a twisted damsel in distress,
hopscotching around the puddles of my tears.

iii.
disconnect in the age of connectivity.
a broken wire frazzled and burned.
my hair is not long enough to escape.

A landscape devoid of transparent eyeballs.
When did we all become photographers?
Freeze fleeting things,
filter clouds, endless beauty a simple effect.

Funny how enclosures feel obsolete—
the graves, the houses, three-sided mornings—
when I am a share, a like,
self-simulacrum selfie.
I stand on a fascinating algorithm,
Below that it’s reposts all the way down.

Share, share a like,
share a googol of happy lives
better than yours.

Are we saying yes  
to starting off yet again,
absent this time?

I wove my own web and netted my prize,
I cold-pressed my words and refined my disguise.

I goggled at life and faced up to that book,
I tumbled and tweeted and baited my hook.

I blipped and I blogged, I bantered and blushed,
I followed and friended, I grovelled and gushed.

I doled out the instant, ten grams at a time,
To fuel my addiction for caffeine and rhyme.

I reshopped my pic, I swiped left, I swiped right,
I pinned and I posted deep into the night.

I gloated and gossiped, I chatted and cheered,
I logged in and logged out without favour or fear.

For is it not fun - this mad media storm?
Viewing and voting from dusk until dawn.

Yet love me or like me, let it never be said,
That despite how it seems, it’s gone to my head.

i've been off the grid for some time now
even deleted my Facebook account
and all that's left when you search for me
is my mugshot from 2003

i guess i'm just a criminal
nothing to show to the eyes of the world
but I don't care about
proving myself to you

i look around me and all i see
are people looking down at cellphone screens
how many more deaths' by selfie will there be?

i guess i'm just too cynical
nothing to show to the eyes of the world
but i don't care about proving myself to you