she peeled fishnets off widespread thighs
quivering with pain and vulnerability
covered her camera lens with them
a facade of perfect popularity

In the beginning people called you a brick. But you weren’t perturbed

You stripped off weight, revealed svelte contours. Emerged fit.

You added bling. Bells and whistles unimaginable

Not shallow though. Shrewd and calculated

You made yourself valuable. Desirable

Everyone wanted a piece of you. I wanted you.

I got you.

In turn you gifted me everything I wished for. Everything I’d need

You brought me knowledge, broadened my horizons. Exposed me to the world

Sometimes enlightening, sometimes shocking

There was nothing you wouldn’t reveal

You organised my life, gave me direction. Connected me

Provided for my base needs. Oh the sweet ***** ***

But you were aloof

For all that you offered, you were indifferent to the price

For the good there was bad. For freedom, I gave you control

The world cost me community. Truths cost innocence

Exposing, I was vulnerable. Revelations rent me disturbed

As my go-between none could see me but through you

You took my connections and reset them. Manipulated my self-esteem

Self-esteem I relied upon

With you as my medium, misunderstandings became commonplace

Relationships once solid showed cracks

With disconnect you scrutinised these divides, and made them gulfs

Analyses became autopsies, on associations seemingly dead

So be it. I’ve seen enough. I’m too far down this path

I wouldn’t know how to change it. How would I even attempt to?

But I knew once

Maybe the problem is you. Your heavy on me once more, like that brick

I appreciate all that you’ve done for me, but there are some things you can’t

I must wrest back from you my connections with community

The bond with those important to me

You can have the world. It’s fame, flattery, insults and disgrace

I just want you to make a call

I gotta phone a friend

Labotomize these thumbs,
they scroll more than they strum.
I don't mean to be dumb,
but I can't respond back so I hum,
and you won't hear me.
No, you can't see the words that I write.
I'm sure you'd only
be tickled,
If you knew that I think of you all night.
Because I can't sleep, love.
And I can only touch me right,
Yeah, that's right.
Just me, love.
Hope I can keep up with this fight.
And I know you don't really care,
and you haven't got some spare
feelings left to share
and if there are, they're barely there.
So drop the pity,
I'm mad you got to hear me whine.
How unsexy.
I'm supposed to just be doing fine.
I'll compartmentalize,
put it in a box and tie it with twine.
while you're liking every post of mine.
I'll compartmentalize.
While I reread your every line.

It is the 23rd century,
The other rebels are showcased in the penitentiary
In the city’s center street
To gratify the remnants of the sensory.

They’re beheld through double-paned hybrid walls of palladium, aluminum oxide and diamond;
In each cell their own reflection’s seen

Endlessly.

There is no blue sky, no scent of trees;
The cells’ sounds rebound and resound

To promote censoring.

It all began in the 21st century;
Now, ancient relics are kept in a technological cemetery,
Guarded by a sophisticated sentry.

Unbound knowledge damaged our brains,
Progress became our shackle and chains.
We—humanity—became dependent like a candle and flame
And gradually, drastically, society managed to change.
All who resisted were banished in shame,
Then our history was lost; I’m lucky to even know my family name.

I am the last rebel.
I know of tambourines, timbre and treble.
I know of beauty that once made men tremble.
I know of the past gods;

Before we made the last devil.

Now we are the drones.
We mass-produced their bodies, now we are the clones.
Now they think, speak and feel for us—we are just bones.
We built our father’s house upon these rocks:

We are the stones.

If any should read this before the ripples of time dwindle,
I’ll be plain: we surrendered human expression to digital signals and symbols.
We once made music from thimbles and cymbals,
Praised the Lord on the timbrels,
Shouted aloud atop the shingles.
It was all so profound, because it was so simple.
Eventually what the experts, geniuses and pros found
Was a way to hose down

A waterfall.

Now, propriety is: No psaltry, poetry or piety.
The cemetery holds the devices which ushered the end of society.
But I have seen them;
I devised a scheme to sneak in silently
And study the history privately.

I was stunned. Stricken, as with fear,
And for the first time in years
My eyes leaked with tears.

If I could talk to them,
If I could ask a question,
If I could somehow call,
I’d ask why—just why did you allow it all?!
How could you not foresee the downfall?!
Why did not some societal siren sound off?

Speaking of sirens...
Oh, no...
They’ve found my lair...
See, this is why I’ve found fault!

Now I am a rebel—a renegade—forced to live like a groundhog

Simply because I seek to enlighten and warn all,
Like one who foresaw
The siege of Warsaw.

If this is ever found, preserve my last words:
LONG LIVE THE REVOLUTION

Signed,

The Last Outlaw

Reed Jobs X

I walked out of my office today at noon
and slid into the stream of pedestrians -
the hipsters stroking their beards,
the pale professionals blinking in the sun,
mothers pushing strollers through the crowd
with more skill than a racecar driver

before I knew it, I walked past my lunch destination
I kept walking - and watching
the people of my town share a sidewalk
without attacking one another

for a moment I was tempted to take a picture
post it on online,
make a socio-political statement;
if people from all walks of life
can share the sidewalk
can we not find common ground?

I left my phone in my pocket - decided against
adding my unnecessary opinion to the
manufactured outrage
that is the sad truth of social media

I smiled at a pretty lady pushing her baby
she smiled back
and we shared a brief human moment
I kept walking

We all want to be liked
To have people see
The version of ourselves
We choose to be
And say, yeah
That's someone I admire
I aspire to be like
We all want someone
To look back on
The snapshots we've accrued
Over years of holidays,
***** nights,
And picture perfect food
And say, look
Here's someone who's got things sussed
We all want someone
To validate our lives
To comment that we're doing just fine
You're great
You're pretty
Your smart
Well, I guess that's a good start

We all want someone
To click that **** thumb
And validate the effort
Of keeping the mask on

We are immersed
In this river growing
by the Nano second
as our brain drinks in
the pixels and photons.
Or   flows past us,
Lost in this river
of enlightenment,
or drowned if we
have not learned to swim.