It’s all about accumulating

songs, books,

Stamps in a passport green, red, and blue.

Newspapers crinkle on the subway,

Giving me hope that my words won’t be lost

In the web of technology, and technology’s technologies.

Do you even read?

Do you even see

When you look through the camera lens

At the picture obscured by an artificial frame?

A new friend request

Waits

While the friend in the room

Waits

While you answer the phone,

Answer the e-mail,

Answer the text,

But where am I?

Lost in a pixilated image.

Who cares if you look good in the picture,

When there is a person operating the camera?

Too bad you can’t see that on the screen.

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