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Poem: The Revolution Will Probably Be On YouTube 

I wish the Internet told you what you really wanted to know. I wish you could have a conversation with the Internet when you're lonely. I wish the Internet was a gentle guitar teacher or that Sri Lankan kid who used to take you on fabulous dates when you lived in Brooklyn. I wish the Internet was a witty professor or a stylish maitre d'.

I wish the Internet brought us into the street, throwing colored powder on each other like I saw when I visited India. I wish the Internet could French kiss.

I'll admit, in my weaker moments, I turn to it, futilely googling "freedom for the moment," "unsomaticize cancer," "mysticism and 9W," "Walmart poetics" and "sartorialist Woodstock." There are few results and many Kardashians.

I wish the Internet would listen more closely to the nuances of your sorrow. I wish the Internet was a guru from the sixties or an acting teacher at HB Studios in the seventies. I wish the me decades had not yet begun.

I wish the Internet didn't leave me so neuralgic. I wish the Internet would show me who I am.

Internet, 3 dollars and fifty cents will buy you a coffee. Internet, who are all these Airbnb people in my town?

Internet, I wish you could comfort me in my ornery moods. I wish you encouraged me to practice the dulcimer instead of shopping for Persian rugs. I wish you would apologize for all the time you steal. Dare I say it? I wish you did not exist.

And sometimes, in the quiet hours when rain starts to tap my windowpane, I'll google lost loves, knowing that I would take more walks if the streets were more full. I do not know what would happen if you googled that phrase.

  • A poem by Emily Sofaer.


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