POEM: Users

crumbled parchment on the floor
words rejected now once more;

the roses you sent long dead
soft red petals hard faded;

digital images flip
flop fetid old memories;

maker’s mark burning my soul
crisply cleanly disinfecting;

reliable addiction
you know i’ll crawl back again;

spread-eagled you await me
promising ‘this will be good!’;

there’s always that condition
– the only demand you make;

this time i need to listen
and do what ever you say;

ah sweet rush inside my head
driving all reason away;

why would i ever say no?

(For National Poetry Month I am writing a stream-of-conscious poem per day. Each poem is  a spontaneous poem single edit – could get messy!  Here is Poem #21. Today’s poem was inspired by the tech word “users” and all the obsessive societal meanings associated with the word. Who is using whom? )

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