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A poem by Chelsea Werner-Jatzke.

This is live streaming. Things now are known in real time, like now and now and now. We are not touching but track padding. The distance of right here and here and here. The friction of fingers warms faces, palms, pockets. In real time, like now and now and now, we are not touching but track padding. The distance of right here and here and here warms faces, palms, pockets. And now we are not touching the distance of right here and here. And here, our warm faces, palms, pockets. Track padding the distance of right here. And here. And here. Our warm faces, palms, pockets. Right here and here and here. In so many mirrors.

***

This is live. This is streaming. Things now are known in real time like now and now and now.

We are carrying on so many conversations. This is one of many. The larger discussion is none of us have spoken in months but everyday we have something to say.

We rise to the rumbling alarm of everyone–you and you and you–available for digital download.

We are not touching but tracking padding. Not bothering to buffer our faces are blueing with breath given to our fingers.

The friction of fingers warms faces, palms, pockets. We do not touch these tips of ourselves to each other’s faces, palms, or pockets.

Depth of field is now no more than arms length. Is this more or less subjective? The distance of right here and here and here.

We are entirely endless in the world wide, touching nothing so much as we touch our language.

There is no longer static when regular programming ends. There are commercials with too much information and discs jockeyed into the late night.

In this way warming on the bus, at the bar, for breakfast, at the café, on the street corner crossed head down and face blue, carrying on.

Alone, we gather to create a new grammar, one that better suits the semantics a finger values.

How to mourn the apostrophe? When we drop the capitals altogether will we remember you from you and you? You and you from me?

We like this and we share this. Here we say, here, look at us in so many mirrors.

***

carry on so many conversations touch on

surfaces smoother than faces, palms

pocket the world wide and put your hands inside your pockets

this is the fenced-in field of language

seeded with a cash crop of pocket lint rumbling

with regularity and too much information

into the late night we keep

heads down and carry on

conversations create a new grammar 

away from apostrophes we drop

capitals

now theres only you

and you and me here 

and here we say to each other look at us in so many mirrors

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