“Phoneciety”

Poem 29 in the ProCrasstheNation Poemvember Poetry Project was inspired by an idea that my friend Dominic named, but I hadn’t been able to articulate: Phoneciety. This is what we are devolving into folks. No way around it. Ironically, much of what I do in way of blogging and capturing content starts with my cell phone. Yes, I am a hypocrite. Does it absolve me from being accountable if I’m aware of the problem. No! I didn’t think so. I give you the Brave New World…

 

Soma never tasted so good.

img_1512
“Escalation” © C.P. Hickey 2017

 

“Phoneciety”

We live in a society in its decline.

Phoneciety.

Bold impropriety.

Gaining notoriety through ego masturbation.

Stroking out.

Striking in.

Faces enthralled by an empty dead glow.

That’s as far as the light goes.

In the throes, of Apps and Emoticons.

No emotions.

Choosing icons to relay feelings.

False mirror.

Non-confrontational.

No immediate accountability for what is said.

Pollution.

Devotion to a lower powered battery.

Depleted

Defeated.

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“Captive Audience” © C.P. Hickey 2017

Hostile takeover,

as towers of terror terraform the landscape.

Triangulation of your virtual presence.

Strangulation of your anonymity.

Sign in.

Log on.

Password.

Text.

Texting.

Taxing.

Bought and sold,

Fool’s gold.

Interconnected isolation.

Deadened gazes.

Instant gratification.

Facebook Nation.

Displaying dystopia.

Heads bent down.

Procession of distraction.

Fixation on the false gods.

The serpent didn’t give the Apple to Eve.

It gave it to Steve,

Jobs are reduced to temporary service related baseline non-skill, cheaper by the dozen, minimum wage destinations.

Resumes have more bullet points than a mass shooting.

Compliance not coerced,

but willingly conceded,

one application at a time.

Click bait.

Plugged in fate.

No debate.

Detonate.

Clean slate.

Heads of State,

complicate globalization and geopolitical issues by firing insult salvos across social media frontlines.

Baseless insults are bullets in the work up to the final SEND.

The End.

Civilized civilization ceases to exist.

Succumbs to dumb elected officials with insecurity issues.

Elevated by an uneducated populace,

a rabble of ham-fisted hacks.

The drug of choice is in your palm.

It enters your eyes,

infects your mind,

leaves you a husk if humanity.

Dependent.

Chasing the first hit.

Addicted.

No cure.

A void to be filled by consumerist considerations.

 

The stars in the sky still shine,

even though no one looks up anymore.

 

Flat earth?

Why not?

What difference does it make, now?

 

Sordid selfie, show the archaeologists of tomorrow our baseless pride.

 

Lucifer was cast out of paradise for serving his vanity.

 

Where will we be cast for serving ours?

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“Malingerers” © C.P. Hickey 2017
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