here i am writing
yet here i am,
writing with a source of media
that is most certainly
filtering out my thoughts.
writing in itself is putting most everything in a filter.
one must take one’s thoughts,
dredge up all the colors,
all the hashtag_random_images,
all the small words,
all the bits of imagination
and the being-state
and the reason this poem perhaps may sound
is because i must take my words
and shove them through the filter paper
of language and hashtag_diction and phonemes and gramarye
and transmit even those through the brain,
through a living hashtag_mesh
a living hashtag_mess
of nerve fibers
and pulsing hashtag_life
and pure instinct
and cell-level signals
and initiate movement,
calculating the precise moment
in which to move each muscle,
to push each key
and with every stroke
to carve out some message for the hashtag_world
to see and divine some meaning from.
and so our whole world is entirely hashtag_filtered.
because i cannot
truly give you my thoughts,
we, the people,
cannot see each other but through a filter.
and i am just another one of you,
i, too, am living in a filter.
hashtag_why, we must be aliens,
for we cannot truly see one another but through a filter
whether that filter be of
a rumor or of
a first impression or of
the clothes we wear on our bodies
i wore black, i must be depressed today
he talks funnily, he must be gay
she acts different, let’s all shun her
and so we create a world round ourselves by way of filter
and i think it’s funny that
we think we can choose our way of life
but strip away our filter and it’s like we’ve lost the light
because i can guarantee that not one of you has ever
not once, in your entire lives
shut off the hashtag_iphone
hashtag_pared away the mask
stepped out into the sun
and just existed for the sake of being you.
i’m one of you, too.
i’ll admit i’m not perfect and
i suppose that’s the point, but
even now i am filtering you
and you are filtering me.
and i haven’t told you who i am yet,
but that’s hashtag_okay. okay?
we’re just taking baby steps.
piddling down the lane
with this filter of my mind
i can hashtag_divine
i can finally touch you with a word
a handful of letter-words
and your brain, too,
has filtered this into one message
you cannot possibly understand.
it is a mad place. and
the world is out of kilter