Entry - MAG Poetry Prize 2011

Chronically connected and severely distracted

by Adriano Antonio Macedo Basto de Carvalho

I open the blinds and see the world; in turn, what
does the world see? It sees me, and all my splendid, split
personalities, living these amazing times of amazing
pleasures, in which we tweet tweets and post posts re
ego-trips and copyrighted links, videos, and things; and,
as stray dogs, we ramble randomly and all the time,
while living our in infinite worlds, of infinite lanes, till
infinity; yet we suffer so much pain.

Our Shih Tzus take us on extended walks, firmly leashed
to Koss plugs, as we drone cool tunes on multihued
iPods, iPhones buzzing ringtones of tittering babies,
stolid kings, and hyperactive frogs, which would all make
my eighty-six year old dad want to gag; we fly
ultralight megaplanes at the sonic sound of speed,
through virtual and real space, connecting dots at low-
cost prices, while we belt-up, gear-up, gulp Gaga and
gorge heat-inducted meals of deer, horse, and over-
promoted crap; and then, wow! surprisingly, we are all
so unsatisfied.

We consciously all move in together and shag on end,
like statistical sheep, pre-married, unloving, and broken
up, and justify it all, to ourselves, with our fully
stretched, spandex morality, over low-carb brunches
@Starbucks, two 13” screens of separation; we paint
pornographic images of virgins, all called Mary, in the
name of art, and, white-clad, fuck babes and altar boys,
and penetrate each other, first with our fingers, deeply,
then superficially, without even wondering, for a
zeptosecond, why we can’t stand one another any
longer.

We crank up dependencies, like high street mainliners,
shamming and slaughtering for neurotoxic fixes of
smileys and Crystal on billion-dollar Kogo yachts, while
we all just pedal on, dispassionately, down and over
interior canals, to the core of our hocked, abbrev lives,
chronically connected and severely distracted, in
aromatic polymer bubbles, heedlessly cruising through
comic-strip farms of mock vegetables, surely to nowhere
and towards no one; and quite frankly, the world laughs
at all this, and sobs, and so do I.

Added: 29.04.2011

Judges' comments on this poem

04.05.2011

Harsh and cynical, yet effective. A very unpleasant view of genus man

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