In this poem, Lewis Isbell meditates on the dreamlike filtering of intimacy through digital space and the fierce recognitions enabled by (dis)connection.
A love poem to all
please remember how
our touching was proclamations
soon undone
quietly and private
the distance was we and us
creaking like oak in the storm
all by ourselves
we can't rewind we've gone too far
The End Of Western Civilization III will be televised
where is the boundary line
when you are surrounded by yourself
and everyone is too?
but we're all still here. on the internet.
our desperate search for meaning and human connection
our consciousness is a strange feedback loop
like the universe seeing itself
we can catch ourselves reflected from the blackhole
when the phone dies.
the future came so fast
so why feel sorry when it gets through.
easy pretending it's all about learning but
beyond the ring of salt, the earth is fertile.
furrowed when we were hiding
a new time
spinning away
A cut doesn't heal under a plaster
and
you will always lose what you think you have
~
Part of our Digital Dreamland series, co-edited by Maisie Florence-Post and Maria Sledmere.
Author: Lewis Isbell Illustration: Maria Sledmere Published: 27/2/25
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