My wife jumped

when I slammed the cover shut on my I-Pad –
I’ve hit the end of the internet, I cried,
smashed into it like a drunk at the barricades
at the end of the freeway!

There seems nothing new to see –
the streams I get from the algorithms
are become repetitive in the extreme

Is there anymore harsh mirror in the world
than this, the reflected feedback
of my likes?

Oh, maybe you are not yet disappointed,
tho’ I do read daily declarations
of people taking-time-off . . .

I’ve spent a few weeks
Unfollowing, Deleting Bookmarks, Unsubscribing,
but it’s like weeding crabgrass by hand

I guess I could broaden my tastes,
‘like’ more different things,
giving up the discrimination
cultivated all these years . . .

I guess I could DO more,
and browse less,
but I’m so, so tired . . .

What did people usta do
while they waited, waited, waited
for doctors and buses and appointments?

I am reading more, again,
Civil War Histories and Russian novelties,
about moments-of-apparent-clarity
that now we know different . . .

Like when I was a college student
reading instead of studying, allatime;
no longer just at night in bed,
sometimes till dawn –
I am become a Day Reader