The Responsible Hate Anthem of J. Abernathy Thaxton (Part 6)

But maybe it was worth it, after all,

After the soda, the hot sauce, the bubble tea,

Among the plastics, among some texting of you and me,

It might have been worth while,

To have compressed matter into an emoji or two,

To have choked the universe into our thrall

To drag it unconscious to some begging question,

To type: “I am Thomas23, back from the ban,

Come to bore you all, I shall bore you all”—

If one, plugging her phone into her head

              Should text: #nocluewhatyoumeant

              #notfollowingyouanymore

And maybe it would be worth it, after all,

Maybe, sometimes, could be, perhaps,

After the selfies and the filters and the signifying tweets,

After the bias, after the distortion, after the echo chambers with no door—

And relativist nihilism, wait there’s more?—

Is it possible to say anything that I mean?

Oh but this magic lantern has burned my nerves onto a screen:

Would worth warp words and wills

If some, texting a friend or screening a call,

And turning from the window, might say:

              #stillnotfollowingatall

              #stopbangingyourheadonthewall