The Internet

The Internet

is Empty


My head sagged to the left,
a line of caramel candy drool
fell
from my mouth to my tie.
The internet is empty.

My hand
pulled by a thread
wrote my opinions on topics,
my entries in the social world

The wheat was growing
too thin
in the field where I stood,
empty of color and blending
into the sky.

Looking back
at an unfamiliar house,
it was leaning to the right
and lacking any definition.

A man came out
and stepped into a stream
passing in front.
He yelled something to me
as a white paper
drifted down his hand
to float away.

I could not hear.
My distance grew with no motion.
I shifted backward
and the man became
tiny.
I stepped into the stream
that circled to me.

I looked down
to a soggy piece of paper
floating by.
Reading the type,
all it said was
"This is the answer
to a thousand conversations."

The paper drifted from my hand
and floated away.

I lifted my stiff head.
There was a caramel stain on my tie.
It was a Rorschach pattern.
The internet is empty.

Mark David Jordan, 2011