the class of ninety-seven in poetry

One good thing about social networking
we all can agree on:
it has negated the entire concept of class reunions.
We don’t have to pretend that they’re fun
just so we can learn what everyone in high school was up to.
We don’t have to dress up and travel and
drink terrible watered-down liquor in an Elks Club
to know who to feel better than and
to know who to feel worse than and
to harbour the fantasy that
someone will tell us they liked us back then after all.
All that takes is a few clicks now.
We know who’s still good-looking, very few of them.
We know who’s going through the motions of marriage and children, most of them.
We know who turned out to be terrible bigots, most of them.
Hell, they were never going to bring their pets to the reunion
on facebook, we can see videos of all their damn pets and
it’s usually the most interesting thing about them.
We can look at that “messages” tab whenever we want
waiting for that “I was so in love with you back then” message and
never get it, just the same as at the reunion
but we don’t have to dress up
we don’t have to travel
we can be just as depressed right there on our laptops and phones.
So thank you twitzel, thank you facespace
thank you fumblr, thank you instawhatever
thank you for the mercy killing of the
awful tradition of the class reunion.
I mean, you’re still a shitshow of horror and hate
but for that, we the class of ninety-seven thank you.