network by Adam Napier

i haven’t wandered lonely
in a very long while if i ever
have at all. even my iphone
has an eye without a lid and
a denim pocket habitat. and
i can’t cope with this cold war

between our thumbs. each refusing
to cave to the first text. each
thrumming with tap-tap
procrastination. why do you think

people drum on dashboards, click
pens, strip water bottles? their
digits are impatient to text you.
to say hey. to write on your wall.
to add their footnotes to your
typed up thoughts. and i try
not to think about creepy
portraits. myriad eyes. just you
a finger’s-length