Post-Internet Poetry        

iPhone Poetry
  1. dear Ryder Ripps-
    When I write poetry, your .png, fictitious iPhone appears. unlocks its home screen.

  2. round corners, a version (3.0)
    from a prehistoric time,
    highschool cellphone filled,
    with my first sexts,
    first late night google searches,
    first poems on that
    pixel yellow.
    the "modernity" of the 2000's
    "the world
    in the palm of my hand"

    a glimpse of memory into the
    photos long deleted
    of friends who are, also, now outdated.

  4. notification! notification! notification!
    2010 your best friend just posted
    a passive aggressive post
    about how you smoke too much weed,
    and about your secret love for girls.
    she should have just tagged you.

  5. dim dim dim
    In school at seats attached
    to fake wood desks
    typing on version 3.0
    under your sweatshirt
    praying each touch that
    no one realized that post
    was about you
    praying your battery wouldn't die

  6. 2013 Today I got an upgrade.

  7. safe safe safe,
    Encasing 4.0 in rubber.
    Keeping it incased,
    Maybe they could make otter boxes
    for the human heart.
    Do you think
    they would have life time warranty?,
    Would they carry them in the color
    Notes Yellow?"

  8. swipe swipe swipe
    instagram makes me seem
    like I'm cool
    wearing vineyard vines
    to expensive but worth
    those vector speech bubbles
    a few more red heatrts

  9. c R u NnN cHHHH
    I cracked my screen again
    broken glass just as hard
    to touch as your body
    losing my virginity
    two years before college
    flirting on Facebook Messenger.

  10. Now I have verion 6.0
    vibrating, hoping I'll return
    to check my Gmail
    or my WhenIWork
    version 3.0 only a
    adolesent freedom
    immortalized in

  11. Shitty iPhone Notes make for
    good poems once the sun rises
    and the familiar Fall Out Shelter
    ringtone wakes me up to check my 6.0