contrived conventions

we are stuck in our phones
and stuck in our beds
sipping deep on dark coffee
just somewhere between

portions of the morning
allotted fully at random
tendency of our nature
going full bloom in the room

a kitchen of classics
the radio sounds a play
in one aspect for the present
mostly charted on days

now dry from the shower
then clothes from the drawer
to steaming pot towel hold
into the french press poured

we are humans not being
without contrived conventions;
the preference, shades,
and pronouns obscure

we are humans not being
couldn’t hold occupied hands;
the mirror doesn’t stand
my selfie will last forever

couldn’t walk for milk unchecking
couldn’t live from that notification

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