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Internet Has Caught Me.
The internet’s been talking at me,
Murmuring slurry, bestowing vacuum,
Gravitationally locked into the e-portal,
Traversing alternate realms of IP and ID.
Lofty towers imprison recollections of grace,
Fibre optic panopticon scurry me away,
Lead me astray, floundering, inapt to adapt,
Remain cocooned on the tree of cyber-life.
Our connections rely on derivatives of glass,
Notions of existence shatter with greater aplomb,
When the vessel of all we knew, magnetism of true,
Breaks asunder with the lie of installed liberty.
Chatter deafens as I dial up the shrapnel of me,
A bookmark of worth lurks in the multiverse,
Internet bestows with one click, thieves with another,
Crime lost in the ocean of trolling, miscellany, false mother.
Streaming notions hitchhike on the super highway,
To and fro, arcing lights in the cosmos of opinion and idea,
Trolls lurk under bridge ventured across with timid heart,
An essence stretched and frayed over cables and in profile.
Identity seeks sanctuary of the trough, uniqueness offered up,
As truffles unearthed by sows amid soil of conformity,
Regurgitated in the throes of oppressive sewage,
Virile stench of your own entrails illuminated on screen.
Broad bands of duct tape bind my wrists and essence,
Funneled down the carpel tunnel, where is the light?
Blinded by the glare where we all become a sole type,
Under the thrall of the Times New Roman Empire.
We seek nothing at the font of all knowledge,
Declare war on the opinion of Joe Blogs,
The global village is far from short of idiots,
The memory of a fuller life lies one town over.
All of us betwixt filth and firmament are click bait,
Dangled on hooks for the sharks of consumerism,
Jaws close yet do you sense the bite to even wriggle?
Locate the lock to reverse your tether to the screen.
The matrix is a grid to connect for life until death,
But the shell produces sound when vacated,
Waves lash audibly against the walls once you,
And we all fall down and switch off the outside, true?
© Brad James, 2014.