I decided to post a pandering, self-contradictory poem… Not a soul caught on and it was treated as serious writing. This speaks volumes about the nature of online readers of poetry, or anything for that matter. These people either hit “like” without reading a word, or failed to comprehend a word of it. This is why I rarely publish anything online these days. Write for yourself, people. Don’t waste yourself on others.

No Signal

I never truly stop, I’m not lost

I’m self contained

I’ve always got something that I want to pen to page

My endless, ageless passion

I cannot count the times I’ve been labeled as “old fashioned”

Keys crashing with echoes of antiquity

Lost with my typewriter; a gift that’s all too dear to me

My way to be connected, though often hid away

Mechanical extension

Carriage, bell and tape