Never mind the kneeling woman,
Her prayers won’t be answered anyway,
And all the saints have gone to hell,
For downloading on the incompatible iGod,
In the graveyard of deleted emails,
There lie sugarcoated testimonies of love and toneless expressions of hate,
And Nigerian lawyers asking for harmless money transfers,
Oh, where does the taste of all the kisses sent through the emoticons go?
And all the smiley-embodied emotions, where have they all gone?
And these virtual hugs that never came real,
And those initials engraved in the supposed book of friendship,
That never withstood the lapse of time or the geographical separation,
No shared image of the last vacation in Croatia can make up for a meet-up
over a pint of beer,
Somewhere in the ether, there are remembrances of internet handles and
gone-by chats,
Floating as fragments of Silicon in the collective memory of the hard drives,
Like unconfessed sins lingering in a Catholic’s conscience,
Like altar boys masturbating in the woods,
As we run in different yet concentric circles of loneliness and alienation,
Bound never to intersect or touch,
Living in the misery of contretemps, oh blessed are they…
Blessed are the internet illiterates, for theirs is the kingdom of coffee shops,
Blessed are they who LOL, for they shall be conformed,
Blessed are the geeks, for they shall inherit cyberspace,
Blessed are they who hunger and thirst, for they shall be fast-fed in value
meals,
Blessed are the pixel junkies, for they shall be pixilated,
Blessed are the broadband users, for they shall see faster webcams,
Blessed are the hackers, for they will be called children of bitches,
Blessed are they, who are persecuted for the sake of downloading, for theirs
is the kingdom of mp3s,
As we both sit monogamous in our celibacy,
As we both turn from side to side in our respective beds,
Waiting for the simultaneous signing in,

I see no problem at all,
Because heaven is empty, and all the saints have gone to hell,
For downloading on the incompatible iGod,
They should have bought the 4 megabytes iGod nano in the first place,
And heaven will be, literally, in their pocket,
Oh, just never mind that kneeling woman,
She’s not praying anyway, she’s just singing along.