Friend Collectors

Shadows in a breathless living room flashing

echoes of a muttering television.  The glow

of a laptop fills the kitchen with friend

collectors.  People needing the cracks sealed

in their meaningless lives, lifted with fake smiles

and friendships as false as cosmetic breasts.  Past

bullies with rolling eyes, commanding mouses

on familiar faces. Friend requests popping through

the monitor like a gunshot of splintered memories. 

Emotionally deleted members left to sweep up flake

filled promises like cookie crumbs on the tile of My-

space.  The scent of fizzling aerosol disguises the

stench of their Twittered false hoods. Then with a sudden

empowering press of denial, I erase them from my face-

book.

by Gina Duran-Salazar