Tales of the Apocalypse, a poem by Adam White, poet

He huddles alone in the dark.
Only a cool glow lights his face.
Outside, the sounds of rebellion,
Fury exploding from the open mouths
Of those with nothing better to do.
How did it come to this?

He checks the news. Nothing.
The media are in denial.
"Just a blip." they say.
The response is government mandate.
"Keep calm. Carry on.
Everything will be fine."

Tapping in the first few letters.
F. A. autofill. Enter.
"Safari can't find the server."
He breaks down in tears.
It's been three weeks.
Feels like ten years.

No comforting blue bar.
No pictures of whatserface
(She's heavily pregnant.
Last picture he saw was her,
Shirt raised, swollen bellied.
He masturbated, the freak.)

No mindless quizzes,
IQ tests, social games,
"Friend" requests, liking
(Does this mean he dislikes everything?)
Oh his giddy aunt...
No notifications!

Oh beloved facebook,
Why have you forsaken us?
Something explodes outside.
Children laugh. The cry
Of those with nothing better to do.
How did it come to this?


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