What's this disconnect? Friendly connection cords wiring fractured posts and battery years, typefont friends and data loss fears.
What's this disconnect? Something searching keys clicking into media sounds and memory speeds, falsehood facts and frenetic frequencies.
Powering down and off. Window world gone. Return to walls. Life back on.
This other one, statue eyes and living wares. Wonder gazes, unthinking thoughts to this hard chair. We can't meet. Small talk typed and mute text life rather than to choose to speak.
What's this disconnect? Digital faces saved digitally from tsunami jaws though their lives were not, left unable to be held except flat against memorial screens.
What's this disconnect? Reading flip page picture frames and captions capturing marketing games without connecting us barely enough to lift our voice to one phone speaker and speak belief. Or anything about anything real, really.
Who will listen? Who will cry tonight with me?
Hoping against this connection speed of disconnect and gravity pounding global headaches and blowback broadband inequality.
What is this hope? Who of us will? Speak what matters. Listen carefully. Now slowing down to
slow word speeds,
Flesh utterances of one small shared try, to raise dignity undigitized and feel these praying bones inside of this, our forgotten human connection life.
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