The intermediary and the subject have fused
Into a person without blood ,
One perceived with eyes tilted down.
This other is me from far away
This other is you on the flat screen
Worn on your arm
To push away the world
To make you believe
You are not alone.
It is a way you have come to deal with terror-
The terror of the Void,
The terror of the foreshadowed.
So you dress up in distraction
To keep it at bay
Pay the Electronic Vampire
To keep you in its magnetic graces,
A blip in the atmosphere in sync
With all the friends you don’t know.
And you get sucked cleanly into this
Semblance of personhood.
What is left of being when
Everything can be denied by
A slight pressure?
Who are you if you can be anyone
And not be anyone real?
We do not need each other today
As long as we can go through
The motions instead, the body
now functioning on remote control in
This realm of the facile, a quicksand
In which we sink muttering banalities.
We have been taken over by a crafty
Master, who makes us think we
Are winning when we are losing