We Watch the News Feed

as if it were a creature with an appetite,

                                     a crop machine, a harvester

following the planting lines, staked close.

                                     We scroll through every post.

We sit side-by-side, this social seeking: us

                                     journalists, us sharers, us fact

checkers, us duped, us conspiracy claimers,

                                     us producers, us meme-makers,

us thieves, us believers, us hosts, us writers,

                                     us debunkers, us live shooters,

us ghosts. All of us. All of us. All of us. All

                                     we know of the season is how

it turns: inevitable, enclosed in a machine

                                     processing no grief, reaping.

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