Wednesday, August 19, 2009

I don't. Fucking. Care.

It is only fair that I would start my blogging career with a poem inspired by how I feel about the virtuallity that connects us all. More to come. Or not. I know the ending is monumental. Worship me.


I don't. Fucking. Care.

I don't care about the videos
where you torture your guitar
and expect the Youtube peasants
to rate you really high

I don't care about your haircut
or where you went club-jamming
I'll become your Myspace friend
just please, please stop the spamming

I don't care about which character
from Sleepless In Seattle
you are according to Facebook
where all you do is prattle

I don't care about anything
you have twerped on the Twitter
you twisted, twaddling twat
all you write is litter

4 comments:

  1. MY BOY!

    Play the game. Be the game. Game.

    ReplyDelete
  2. You love it all. But most of all, you love me. You touch yourself when I tweet. You come when I twitter. And you're not exactly quiet. I can hear you all the way over in Canada.

    Cannonball into the lake with us, or you'll get your favorite jeans wet when we pull you in by your feet.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Worthy sentiments.

    I hope to see more splenetic juices and links to Croatian heavy metal appearing on this custard-coloured page in the future.

    Go team pointless babble!

    ReplyDelete
  4. I love poetry addressing the minutiae of the contemporary banalities we're forced to swallow.

    You make Mikhail want to write poems again. He'll be back, baby.

    Danka.

    ReplyDelete