We all crave power,
connection. Squat shamelessly
for that next tech fix.
Traveling unplugged
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We all crave power,
connection. Squat shamelessly
for that next tech fix.
Boingo charged me eight
bucks for all-day internet.
Sucker born right here.
At every gate
we jockey for outlets, our
iPhones running low.
I draft spreadsheets, each
detail a talismanic
ward of protection.
Too old for pick up
and go – live in the moment
shit, but…what the hell.
I’ve fallen victim
to corporate dress-speak. Just
button down shut up.
Aim, fire! Chemical
fragrance confirms strong toxins
at work. Die, germs, die!
Hello cubicle.
Keyboard. Monitor. Earbuds.
Plug in. Tune out. Run.
Dandelion seed
responsibilities float
away on each breath
Domestic mountains
rimmed with grime, sponge scaling this
Everest of suds.