I lost my 
technological virginity today: 
I got a new phone, 
a new computer, 
a g-mail account, 
I’m on Instagram, 
and a friend is building me 
a website. 
Whatever will be next, 
Facebook, Twitter, Tik Tok?
It seems a slippery slope 
sleeping with all these social platforms, 
or maybe, 
I am just too easily seduced. 

The first time, Diary, 
it was those green wall phones 
that really pushed my buttons, 
and color T.V.’s 
that set my heart aflutter. 
I was intoxicated 
by the hums and clicks and whirs 
of electric typewriters, 
as lighter and lighter touches 
turned ever so slowly 
into keyboard caresses. 
Such sweet seduction. 

But Diary, 
I think I’m headed for the fall, 
talking now  
of refreshing my mind, 
having someone’s name 
deleted from my memory, 
and self-correcting apps 
robbing me of my ability to spell. 
Is this the gateway drug 
to likes, comments 
and an unquenching thirst for followers? 
Will I eventually become uncomfortable 
with my own company?
I fear I am fast on my way 
to becoming 
a slut of social platforms 
and often wonder aloud, 
Will they respect me in the morning?


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One Reply to “Dear Diary”

  1. I love this poem; so inciteful. Baby boomers are absolutely on this mode of thinking, how high tech has moved us away from familiar things from back in the day and we’re not sure how to juggle the vast chasm. More poems please! Love them! Susan Warrell😎

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