By Doug Bursch
This portal to community, smooth to the touch.
Touch, touch, touch; one finger to navigate, investigate, communicate and explore.
Two fingers to zoom in and out, to center your eyes with your interests.
Seeking interest as you endlessly filter; through updates, posts and tweets.
Updates, posts, and tweets; endlessly searching for purpose on a page,
Something to zoom in on, with your two fingers, something to copy and paste.
Something to update, post, and tweet.
This window to information, data plan driven.
Download times and connectivity issues a temporary distraction from the hope to come.
The hope of endless streams of meaning, downloaded within same breath of question.
Instant answers, instant access, instant touch and zoom. Every answer on the page, behind the screen, beneath the touch and gaze.
The boys wrestle on the floor, pushing heads with hands, pressing knees in backs,
Vacillating between laughter and grunts, smiles and vexation.
Their physicality annoys you, it is accompanied by volume and potential discord.
Their touch will lead to discord, elbow will press into rib and snarling will ensue.
You anticipate the discord by trying to dam their physicality.
Damn their physicality as they are back at it again,
Wrestling in the preemptive joy that always precedes the fight.
Don’t worry, some day they will disengage from their entangled floor tussle.
Knees and elbows will yield to the peck of fingers and thumbs.
They will join you in your world of tap and zoom.
Their bodies will no longer intentionally touch.
Only the smooth screen, smooth to touch,
touch, touch, touch.
Ouch