4.4.15

"Loveless love poem" or  "hateless break-up poem" was the prompt for 4/4...I don't know which one it is, but it contains neither hearts&flowers nor gloom&doom, so make the call for yourself.

Collection

Your ever-present clutter

jams my channels,

static fizzes to dust:

a salvage yard of electronic toys

always underfoot.  It began

as a competition with your brother:

who could have the newest phone,

shiniest handheld whatthefuck,

slickest controller, most buttons,

biggest screen, loudest music?

What about hottest girlfriend?

He never won that contest,

but who cares now? Discarded

keyboards are stacked in the closet,

twists of wires from abandoned toys

snake out of desk drawers.  Always

upgrading, always moving forward—

except where real things are concerned.

You collect virtual trophies

and perhaps real ones too—then accuse me

of changing.  You never used to

be like this.  I’ve slicked down,

gone touch-screen, gone wireless

mouth shot clean off,

LED eyes blazing and blowing the dust off—

tell me, my love,

isn’t newer

smarter

better?