Netting the drone droning the Net
(©2016 John T. Windle/Vaudeville John)


This week as predictable
as the last and next;
punctuated by news,
dozens of my vacuous texts.

Another scandal,
murder, war zone on the phone;
just a distraction from
the job that pays my home.

  The most exciting,
  greatest age in history;
  buzzing outside the window.
  Could there be a page for me?
  Spectacular chapter?
  or a footnote?

Watching a monitor
of world population;
rising right, falling left,
of being born and extinction.

You interrupted me
while I was doing that.
I'm sorry that I snapped
because I appreciate the contact.

  Narcissistic fibrosis;
  scarring from the trolls.
  Marketing harvesters
  droning the net
  to net the drones,
  needy classless,
  uncorseted clones.

SOLO

Connectees cry with; horror,
hope, hate, happiness.
Indisputable detail,
then deciding to care less.

It really wasn't my fault
all that did happen.
A plea for charity
was shifted to the folder
called spam.

  Looking like I've become
  the captain of my shit.
  The mass of choices
  leaves me to comfortably sit
  on the fence,
  I make no difference.


©2016 John T. Windle/Vaudeville John