Psalm 42.
As the hart panteth after the water brooks
so panteth my soul for retweets, O God.
My soul thirsteth for Facebook likes, for LinkedIn connections:
when shall my friend request be accepted by my God?
My tears have been my meat day and night,
while they continually say unto me, What is thy Klout?
When I remember these things, I go on tweet storms within me:
for I had gone with the multitude,
I went with them to sign up for Twitter,
with the voice of joy and praise,
with a multitude from Brooklyn and the Beltway.
Why art thou vaguebooking, O my soul?
and why art thou disquieted in me?
Hope thou in God:
for I shall yet praise him by photographing my countenance.
O my God, my engagement is cast down within me:
therefore will I Instagram my expensive vacation from the land of Jordan,
and of the Hermonites, from the hill Mizar.
Derp calleth unto derp at the trolling of thy social networks:
all thy two-minute hates and thy hashtag campaigns are gone over me.
Yet Twitchy will command lovingkindness in the daytime,
and in the night #TCOT shall be with me,
and my prayer unto the Gif of my life.
I will say unto my followers, Why hast thou unfollowed me?
why go I mourning because of the oppression of the haters?
As with a sword in my bones, I see my best content go unfaved;
while they say daily unto me, Why can thou not shake it off?
Why art thou cast down, O my soul?
and why art thou disquieted within me?
hope thou in God: for I shall yet praise him,
who has followed me back, and is my God.
Lift My Chin, Lord
Lift my chin, Lord,Say to me,“You are not whoYou feared to be,Not Hecate, quite,With howling sound,Torch held…
Letters
Two delightful essays in the March issue, by Nikolas Prassas (“Large Language Poetry,” March 2025) and Gary…
Spring Twilight After Penance
Let’s say you’ve just comeFrom confession. Late sunPours through the budding treesThat mark the brown creek washing Itself…