Group Text

Poetry

Oct 2

The ultimate communication machine
in a world of disconnected humans
mashes us together in distorted harmony
so we can each raise our hand for a
chance to talk about what we did today

It’s not banter, and it’s not candor,
it’s a sub-level of a conference call
but with so many response emojis
that it can feel overwhelming to
properly respond to every glitch

How many people can we gather
inside of this small, unventilated
room, so that we can all feel together
when the real solution would be
to actually make a plan in real life

But distance strings us out on the
end of what used to be a corded
phone line, and we react when pinged
to the evermore of each person’s
discombobulated happenstance