Internet

Much is made of the Internet being
The modern glory of mass understanding--
Locks pried off and secrets exposed
To any odd bedchamber-bound voyeur;
But in truth, this great cawking, this bird-noise arointing
From guano-glozed tors, is puerile auk-gabble,
Acidic excretal goops and glurps,
Parasite ticktocks preened out with a fluffle,
Meaningless colony biz and buzz.
You and I, we've stuck to our isolate icebergs . . .
Mediasocracy ain’t our scene;
We float through this sea on cold-water flows,
Semaphore back and forth trite twaddle tidings,
Steer clear of reefs and frenzied flocks.
Those dissonant haloes? Wastes of electrons!
The Internet's beauty resides in disinterest:
Wisdoms are gained when one learns to ignore.