Facebook killed my cousin (revised)

Evidently I'm not the only one finding weirdness in Facebook's exhortations to bother your friends. The comic strip xkcd examines the topic today.

This post revises an earlier draft of the poem. This revision includes a suggestion from another cousin, one who is active enough on Facebook that the big FB doesn't command me to bother him.



Facebook Killed My Cousin

You haven’t talked to Lynda lately.
Facebook announces it on my news feed
like it’s simply factual, a tidbit of trivia,
like it isn’t loaded up with innuendo,
like You’re looking good today doesn’t mean
You finally found a razor and an iron.

Send Lynda a message.
Facebook gives me commands, implies
I make a statement if I disobey the Facebook.
Having no news to share is a snub.

Glenn is now friends with Adam, Julia, and Tara Lynne.
Oh, just shout it all over the playground,
like there’s some law of conservation of friends,
like I had to push a lifetime of friendship with Lynda aside
to make room for perfect strangers – strangers who
may be found at the indicated links, by the way,
should there be any resentment.

Reconnect with Lynda.
As though I ever disconnected? Is Facebook trying
to get her angry with me?
Make Facebook better for her.
Like this isn’t a ploy to keep us tangled
in the web of Facebook?

Write on her wall.
Vandalism. Surely a way to make Facebook better for her.
Poke her.
Seems a bit impolite.
Poke her.
Like, to see if she’s still there?
Poke her.
To see if she’s still alive? Like she ceases to exist
if not active on Facebook?
Hold a mirror under Lynda’s nose.
Oh my god!

&&