Look at me.
Look at me.
Look.
Pick up the phone.
Put down the book.
Hang my heart
For “likes”
On fanatical fishhooks.
See my pet;
See my dinner;
& don’t forget
How much I’m thinner.
Scroll & scroll & scroll.
Internet lusting;
Internet trolls
That keep thrusting
Their generic junk
Into my DM’s.
Wanna see me face to face?
Give me a week’s notice,
Or, Lord, I’m cursin’ them
When they show up at my place.
Piss off, you. You person
Of normal encounters;
I’m done with the downers
Of “social interactions.”
Soup-for-the-soul,
Wholesome reactions
Like handicapped figure skaters:
Love’s on one end with warm embrace,
But the other is haters
when you fall on your face.
Vincent Vecchio is an on-and-off again writer from Vancleave, Mississippi. I’ve had poetry published in The Write Launch, The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature, and forthcoming in The Evening Street Review. The genre I’m submitting to is poetry.