Do we truly bleed upon that page?
Since there is no page, is
our digitized blood
just as phony? Pixelated poems,
scorched sunspots on
a bleached field find
no truth for lack of trying.
Simple sentiments of
a universal disorientation
feigned as
profundity.
The sure-shock, formulaic
tripe placed with
an ideal image to
influence.
We all sell ourselves,
some of us are just in
#denial.
Type nonsense for all to read.
Remain vague to
leave little slots for
the displaced, depressed
community to deposit
self-fulfilling fallacies.
Tell others how to
live their lives and
hope it goes
#viral.
I would not remove,
or disparage,
the words of anyone writing
their truth, but
I wish for those who read to be
more discerning.
Stop emulating
mediocrity;
it gets far too much
attention as is.
by Erik Shinker
I’ll be very interested in hearing what your other readers think about “Instagram Poetry.” (My initial reaction was “Ouch!”) I could see a discussion of this movement in poetry, which I also have observed, as the focus of an insightful essay for a literary magazine.
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well done. thank you
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No, thank you!
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