Confessions of a Digital Blog Publisher

Behind the doors
Of dusty floors,
Are flickering computer screens.
Lights are dim,
Our thoughts begin;
We type thoughts in digital streams.

Millions sit
For mental trips,
But we're plainly out of sight,
And in the dark,
Our butts are parked
Well into the moonlight.

We sit at tables
With laptop fables,
And virtually organize,
Our cluttered thoughts
Where memories caught
In files of any size.

We’re millions strong,
With solo songs,
And distant e-letters to send.
We’re all about
The muscular clout
That twitch from numb rear ends.

We’re a nation,
In isolation,
With many virtual powers,
Through e-mail,
We cannot fail,
To stay up ridiculous hours.

From millions of home,
In bubbles and domes,
We’re a nation that’s out of sight.
But even alone,
We have a home,
“Agoraphobics UNITE!”