This poem first appeared in print in the Fall 2017 issue of GFT Presents: One in Four. Order a copy now for late Fall 2017 delivery.
View from the Storm Surge
The phone beeps and the watch on my wrist buzzes
the same alert, announces an update. iMessage,
SMS, non-stop notifications. Twitter feed, news stream,
one hundred emails to read. It’s only 8 a.m.
I post, I friend, I webex the west coast. Slack multitasks
me, LinkedIn connects me, everyone follows me.
Glowing screens bathe all the fathers’ faces at the school play
and the boss wants to skype at 9 p.m. The rush of data
pours around me like churned seawater, dark and barometric,
crashing my shores and reshaping me into binary
flotsam. Pulling me into its chopped seas. It is not
the future I saw as a boy, biking from computer camp
to the Bump & Tilt arcade, leaving lines of BASIC behind
for the 8-bit temple of Ms. Pac-Man, of Tempest. Where
the CRT glow and synthesized soundtracks were pure
potential, the promise of freedom like the ocean breeze.
Copyright © 2017 Jeff Nesheim | All Rights Reserved
First appeared in GFT Presents: One in Four.