ere i walked the shadows
of a shameless life eschewed
i sometimes talked for hours
on the telephone
’tis true
attending to the inbox
which would hold my correspondence
until one day i stopped
having become too despondent
seven years have come and gone
and still i have not looked
nor listened to my messages
not even on facebook
this plague pervades
most every aspect
of my adult years
i since have lost the respect
of my family and peers
for they can’t see the reasons
nor the logic of my plight
its tragedy is lost
amid the inference of their slight
presuming that it must be
that they’ve somehow drawn my ire
some say i’m maladjusted
others think i have retired
i cannot help but panic
upon hearing rings and tones
instilling in me frantic feelings
reeling in my home
truth be told i have disabled
every last alarm
and push notification
for they only cause me harm
and should you try to reach out
with an intention to touch
you’ll not invade this redoubt
that has long since been my crutch
and if you are to know me
then you first must understand
even if you are the homie
you can talk to your own hand
Max, or Not 
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