Finger Hustle

Here we connect or maybe there, it doesn't matter;

These two eyes will never connect.

Still that's a thing that does happen so;

If I listen close enough, can I hear a heart bleating?

Through some stale fingers,

On an iPhone, on a keyboard;

Maybe your new step dad's basement computer?

Sterile's how you'll try to connect here, maybe elsewhere; it never matters.

Exposure's now a dialect?

It seemed to happen, as things do.

If you listen simply enough, you will hear hearts bleeding

Through stale notions,

On keyboard's, iphones,

Your f*****g mom's new boyfriend's computer....

Exposure is now a currency

How red can your blood bleed, for me? For the camera (web style)?

For that basement situation that will never really matter?

What is it that you can make for me now that matters? 

Author's Note

J.baud... I cant spell his name so well ... ard

Reviews

[TL Boehm]

Peeps do get all spun up about the life in the interwebs. A person will develop a persona and then put it out on the virtual corner for all the feral monsters to see, then wonder why the hell there are real bite marks on a body's soft underparts. Most bodies can only really run one identity at a time so real life will always encroach on the virtual one and the itty bitty pretties will drown in the deluge.
I am who I am. On the bandwidth and off. I don't have the dendrites to try to build a virtual Barbie. And I have limited empathy for those who allow themselves to get caught up in the mess on the bandwidth. I liked this poem because it gives a good kick to the head of the virtual fantasy realm where so many squishy little emoji spittin' types waste their precious moments on this orb thinking its real when it isn't.

[Davidgeo]

"the virtual fantasy realm" Don't kid yourself.... what is it that we are doing right here and now?

We may be slightly more sophisticated, use better words, maybe even talk about more meaningful things at times..... but we are no different in what we do here. We are all part of a simulacrum. Living in western society is one giant precious moment of unreality. I think that's why we're all so f*****g neurotic.

[TL Boehm]

True. If I myself wrote purely for myself and not for attention - I wouldn't have an account here. I write to be read. And I read to connect to others. And here - no one sees what I see when I look in the mirror. Its still "me" but fat free and no awkwardness.

[Davidgeo]

fat free and no awkwardness... ha... lovely

[Meowy Cats]

I liked the poem very much. I think that this poem says something and it speaks out. It delivers a message and it says is that all that matters? The phones, the laptops, the ipods, the ipads, the tablets, the high tech printers to print out cute cat photos. (That's what I would do.) I think that the message delivered is great and for this, I am grateful. Thank you for all you've done. I realize now that it doesn't matter and if want a phone get a cheap one. Not one that is 10 miles long. Thank you again.

[Davidgeo]

Are you kidding me with this? Dickface... you smell like the last time, clean your claws, please try harder next time. You're a finger disgrace, my dear.

[Davidgeo]

Actually not a bad review though... top marks for that my old friend.

[Meowy Cats]

I a kid no swearing please

[Davidgeo]

My apologies. Read elsewhere my dear.... life may look more pleasant in that where. The elsewhere is where you ought to be.