Journal Entry #5 Poem by Raj Dronamraju

Can that be the love that is discarded
Manufactured and sold as product
As creamy as nougat, as crispy as chips, as crunchy as popcorn
To fill up your tank with the cheapest fuel possible

No split from the public extension
Everything you do is shared with an audience
Can that be the love that used to grow in privacy
Dies now in infancy and is left to rot in public

Headstrong romantics navigate an ever shrinking causeway
Throwing others into a polluted river of conquests, near misses, miscommunication, deliberate loneliness

The coldest pattern produces the response of escape
Not fealty, not a lemming dance
Their going along will be brief like a tickle produces reflexive laughter