Star on the Small Screen

 

 

 

Five minutes until the camera starts rolling

my home was not your home too.

they never seem to understand that.

staring at a silver screen doesn’t bring us

eye to eye

i’m not close enough to touch.

there’s distance between us

distance that we can’t make good

not when you’re

just a number on the screen beside

me and I’m

only a walking talking

piece of entertainment for a bored

vapid youth.

i’ll laugh and laugh and laugh

holding up some gizmo to the screen like

a piece of meat for purchase

and you’ll act like you know me

we’ll pretend like it’s just a game.

there’s nothing fun in this

entreating before the camera

as if on scraped knee before an emperor

begging for jewels and pay.

only the steady tic of subscribers rewards me

your views are newfound joy

so please keep watching

pretend you see me and I’ll

pretend I see you.

my home is not your home

i am not your friend

that’s the thing they never understand.

[enthusiastically]

Hi, gang! Today we’ll be going to – 

Screen cuts to black.

##

This poem was probably inspired by a conversation I had with my sister earlier today about the way culture evolves very quickly and how I (21) see the internet very differently to how she does (15). 

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