July 4th, 2022.
I wrote this zine because of the complicated relationship I have with social media. It keeps me connected with the people important to me, but it makes me feel terrible sometimes. When I wrote this, I was just wanting to put my phone down and not have to look at it again.
You can either download the zine and follow the directions for folding it, or you can read all the poems in this document below. This zine is an eight page gate fold, here's how to assemble it. Fold it in half lengthwise so "phone bad," "intro," and the title page are on one side. Fold it in half so "doomscroller" and "idle idle idle," on the other side, are touching. Open that fold and fold "doomscroller" to the center so it's face to face with the haikus, and the same on the other side. The finished booklet should open up to show "intro" and "phone bad," which can then open up to show the poems on the inside."
» so... your bio says you write poetry?
« yeah, I do, I suppose
» and people read it?
« I mean yeah, I hope so
» is it any good?
« I'd like to think as much,
« I don't know.
« But, I guess I don't care about
« whether it's good.
« It's about whether it
« sticks with the person reading it.
« wherever they go.
» That sounds pretty lame ngl
« oh lmao
Time to kill, check Twitter and Facebook and
Instagram and Snapchat and Twitter and
Snapchat.
Check Messenger - no new messages.
Then check Facebook and Twitter.
Look through the 20 tabs in your browser.
Resolve to sort those later.
Check Messenger - no new messages.
Check Snapchat and Facebook and Reddit
and Twitter and Reddit again and Instagram.
Check Messenger - no new messages.
Check Twitter.
Get frustrated, put your phone down.
Deep breath
inhale exhale
Tap foot, look around the room.
Check the time.
Check Twitter and Facebook and Snapchat.
Scrolling scrolling scrolling scrolling
There’s a text you need to find.
24 June, 2019
There’s a date that caught your eye.
Everything was going well
With “talk to you soon :)” their last goodbye,
They donned a sheet and stopped responding
And they faded out of sight.
It’s been some few years now
And moving on was for the best,
‘cause you can’t kill the ghost by fighting,
just by laying them to rest.
(Message from your dad.)
I found your post. What the fuck …
[Mark as Read] | [Reply]
Reading haiku, you’re
Reflexively counting your
Fingers, just to check.
I posted that when I was 14.
I didn’t even know what that was yet.
Reflections of the past self
become less of a mirror,
more of a glimpse of myself
in the passenger car window
of a speeding car
downtown at night.
Bad news bad takes bad world bad people bad
places bad lives bad countries bad state actors
bad corporations bad politics bad opinions
bad words bad actions bad thoughts bad
fucking everything—
Bad weather
When the 7-day forecast is nothing but doom
And something even worse, coming soon.
But you're scrolling and you're scrolling
To recover dopamine
From a post with good news,
Something brain-rewarding.
I could look away whenever I want to,
So why aren't I looking away?
Fear of feeling stupid, or being the same,
Fear of being ignorant, or out of the loop,
Fear of my addiction to impending doom.
Another terrible thing on the internet
just knocked the wind out of me today.
I don't even care
To say what it was.
I tossed my phone
And it landed face-down
and the screen fucking splintered.
But I could only laugh
As it lay there, pathetically,
Like a piece of bread, butter-side-down.
Pushed myself up off the bed
And stepped over the useless thing.
I giggled and think I said
Something like "phone bad"
And took a break
From some misery
Not worth thinking about.