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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