The New Real World Poem by Ryan Glover

Lose your tongue, mislay your vocal chords, they are needed no more.
Replace the shape of my eyes, the flare of my nostrils, the corners of my lips,
their expression is no longer warranted.
Watch me bear my heart on my keys. My attire is now bare.
Read hard my words, scrutinize my stills, they are all that is left.
Shatter the mirrors, upheave the dresser, you are going nowhere.
Descry as I edit, rephrase, delet my emotion. How neatly I bundle it
into so few characters.

Exist between the home, profile, and friends page.
Bulletin activities no longer done in lieu of games never won.
Connect to those you’ve long forgotten and forget the ones you once acquired.
Yourself is stored in digits no man can read, processed, analyzed, displayed on a screen
for all to see.
Limit yourself to cliché and catchphrases, you are no longer of real interest.
Don’t bother asking when I’ve advertised all you need to know.
My space is no longer filled with substance. My face lingers no more in books.
I am as you see me, as you are as I see you: an avatar, a pewter figurine, not flawed, nor
exquisite.

Relinquish your skin, your blood, your hair, your finger nails, your walk, your smell; these are trifles.
Select from the drop down list the face that suits you best.
Argue, make love, weep, giggle, live, die inside the screen.
This is your world now, enjoy.

2010