In an Unrelated
By Elaine Equi
We have almost nothing left,
no ground in common.
At best, a brand
or maybe a miniseries.
No campfire to gather around.
The big stories—peckish news
gets told in tweets,
gets old so quickly.
In place of one place
a billion tiny customized versions
appear targeted specifically
to your tastes.
You see only what you want to see.
Maybe you always did.
Source: Poetry (May 2019)