Life · Poetry & Shorts

The Like-Hound

The phone doesn’t vibrate and I sink further into thought,

Am i god’s unwanted child left ignored in a gutter of the by-lanes of this inter-web overwrought?

I look up and look up again in vain on the right top corner but that tiger’s eye beautiful orange dot, doesn’t glow.

I crave a knock at my virtual doors – don’t you know?

These doors and walls are tall and strong and fragile like my ego and they wont let you in for you’re not here but somewhere else – where i know not.

When i built me this lovely glass house, it was not to be a prison but a lookout tower – or so i had thought.

When did I transmogrify from a real flesh and blood out-and-about social soul to this – a like hound  tethered virtually to this virtual world?

Like a Pavlovian reflex these make-believe touches from people I shall never see determine my smiles and sometimes I wait long enough for dinner to go cold.



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