social media, 2

​then one day
all the listening stopped.
you couldn’t hear the last
door shut, the ears
falling off made no sound
and dropped 
like shriveled apricots.
it was easy to destroy
the birds then, to say
they never mattered
to crush the chickadee
in hand. the stars still
meant something but
when the wave came
we never knew what 
hit us. the smashing of
guitars was chordless
without a sad, low note
the guns took us
as if in our sleep, the trees
fell all around but, as we so 
often joked, they never
really fell because no
one ever heard them, yet
we wandered empty 
among the stumps
and ran our fingers
through our hair as if trying
to recall the texture of 
leaves and grass. 
all these things happened
and worse but it started
small, innocuously like
someone clicking the 
receiver on an obsolete phone
such a tiny, final sound
it began like a whirlpool
at first wide we imagined
we could hear the entire 
world breathe then just
a city like us, then a street
like us, then a house filled
with us, how the faces
all looked the same
all said the same prayers
the more righteous 
the more alike 
then a room jammed
full of I with a capital I
oh the narrowing,
the winnowing until the only
things we believed worth
listening to were our own
thoughts and they 
took us down.
​