I’m in love, and that gives me the right to be obnoxious. I am taking that out on you, Dear Reader. Here is a poem. And since it’s a poem, all grammatical and spelling errors are intentional. I thought about them! That makes them art!!1!
We’re not built for this shit (antenna)
All the signals burn
and you try to turn down the volume
but the frequency is still too strong
and you can’t seem to tune out–
be numb or be burned.
Look at everyone
with all their tuning knobs
modulating all patterns at once.
We’re left without a simple off switch
just a blanket to cover
to muffle some of the electricity.
Every inch of bandwidth is like lightning
–content makes no difference
caught perpetually processing
unceasing sensory input destroying
the delicate wires inside.
come stand beside me
and let me be your mirror
we can stand together
pointed to the sky
and as the lightning strikes
at least you’ll know that
you’re not the only one who scorches from end to end
and if we can’t bend any other way
at least we can try to fade each other’s signals
attenuate the world for each other
flatten our surface for the sake of sanity