Emily Dickinson emailed me-
she’s not coming to tea this afternoon,
something about being up all night streaming
Beyonce videos.
Robert Frost i.m.’d-
he needs five synonyms for
“dickhead neighbors” that
the editors will allow in The New Yorker.
Thoreau posted a dozen videos
on Facebook this morning-
Apparently he has a cat
at the cabin now...
I am going to ban
Ezra Pound from commenting on
my timeline- talented poet, yes,
but he’s also a raving, paranoid loon.
Oh, Walt Whitman posted
a video too- Firefighters of New York
do Hoboken- you’d better go look fast
before Facebook pulls it.
Edna St. Vincent Millay was trying
to reach you on Skype-
Bukowski’s been drunk texting
her again.
Say what you want about the
limitations of Twitter-
that platform was * invented *
for e.e. cummings.
Damn, gotta go-
my battery is running low.
How the fuck did people
function
before computers?
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