e-motion

The more you talk the less I listen. I’ll get straight to the point before you digress, I like you more when you want me less. The more you speak the less you say. Non stick man with Teflon skin leatherette, not the real thing. And you, carbon neutral baby. Passionately patronising, all that laughing gas gassing is antagonising. A quick way lay, just a click away. At times like these it’s easy to forget, e-motion’s just shit on the internet. Never trust a bore who drives a bull-barred 4x4, with a manicure, a pedicure, they’re insecure, there’s no cure, but one thing’s for sure – Paypal is their pal and it’s your place or it’s Myspace, touch the screen, feel the force, you better get ready for digital intercourse. Myopic eyes, once so romanticised. Saw and read blurry pages, just the vision of the middle ages. Now there’s no snogging, there’s just blogging. Come to bed pleas, indiscreet, slippery electric nylon sheets. Won her on ebay, he hopes that she’ll stay, but he knows he’s an overrated, fixated, full of self-hatred, under-pixellated webcam man, he’s interfaced, camera, laptop, touching base. Caught in the web, addict-anon, friend unrequited, hisgrave.com Now the great unsigned, the logged off and resigned, the prematurely blind, It’s shut down time.

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