Poetry

These Days

written by: Seanif

These days newspapers don't fly down steamy streets full of life
they don't cyclone and spin and flap against the faces
of newsworthy gentlemen in hats

They remain in pixel form,
as if you had your nose pressed up against a front page murder

Aviating in unseen cables, swimming under oceans
bouncing off orbiting metal
they cling to the web as it is viewed by the world
No longer ponderously heaped on street corners yelling 'extra'

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