Millennial Love
Let's workshop this poem about the struggle of true connection in the digital age, where smartphones and porn ideals foster feelings of alienation, inadequacy, and FOMO that corrode intimacy
Millennial Love
Impotent not only to lounge on sofas present
truly with one another (retinas unremovable
from our screens), we find ourselves recoiled
enough to require—as if British bulldogs—
Amazon lube and gadgets, tablets to bridge
the chasm, when our partner fails to match
the ideals of the web porn we were suckled on:
baby-oil genitals bald in goosepimple HD;
floodlit zooms into snaps of mucus strings
sparkling in the lithe gape of anuses open
always to machinic pounding. Add to this
the endless faces we swipe left (white sugar
irresistible to fruit-evolved brains), farming
our FOMO on what better lies in the cloud.
