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High Critique » prefix poem dis
Prefix poem, Dis
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Distanced I Dis connect
Disconsolate enuii
I flick the screen alive
strangers flood my space
they disparage what I use
push their disposable trash
I dismiss the ploys they use
their flashing light displays
the blur of too much choice
disturbed by airbrushed smiles
all those disjointed claims
I distrust their AI games
disquietened by false charm
my silence disconcerts
so they offer me a deal-
who needs a talking broom
disgruntled and dismayed
to have them in my house
distracted by their noise
and always fake discounts
their loud discordant gush.
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