Poem
when I can’t use my thumbs any more
if you would
just plug me in and feed me
not with memories from my lifetime
but accumulated heaps of attention
from the attention warehouses
where I have saved up enough likes
over the decades with a charisma machine
and a solid social media manager
with the foresight to plan for the end
of friendship IRL
so that when I start to slip away
closing my eyes with finality
head hugged
by Apple Air Max three or four
I can listen to a customised lifetime rewind
playlist designed by iLife with hopefully
more than just a few good personalised dirges
sung by AI Tom Waits