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The Social Network MAG
I traipse
through the unrelenting minefield,
disabling mines in an instant;
I deliver a small blue thumbs-up.
But:
every disarmament,
every thumbs-up,
every engagement
pours hot black oil into the fire;
more mines
multiply left and right, up and down.
I tear my eyes
away – I wrestle with
my inner narcissist,
my confrontational warrior – sighing,
I retreat.
My thumb brushes over
the nearly-imperceptible indent
and – suddenly – I am granted exit,
no – release, from Facebook:
to sleep.
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