11 Dec 2018 poem


Abby Six-Shooter feels the tug of her phone.
Feels the need to check email, Facebook, Twitter.

She finds she does not talk to men or women anymore.
She talks through her fingers—her thumbs really.

Abby thinks how her two sisters drifted away
refusing social media, refusing digital connection.

She feels English grammar evolve beneath her thumbs.
She has observed pencils in antique shops.

Abby gives in to the tug of her phone
and her eyes leave mine.

copyright © 2018 Kenneth P. Gurney



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