By Mark Berelekhis
I offer thanks to Jobs and Gates
for helping me erect
a thousand shiny screens
between me and the world,
a neighbor’s icy gaze,
another human heart.
Encased in an impregnable cocoon–
coasting on hashtags,
bouncing off Facebook walls–
I toil from dawn till dusk
to sow and harvest the illusion
What do I know of unity?
A transient alliance
against a rival sports team,
against an ideology,
against the one percent.
Discordance makes a flimsy foundation–
values shift, teams relocate, fortunes are lost
The lens inside my skull is on the fritz,
capturing stills of enmity and strife,
where there is only love.
But this, alas, is all I know of life.