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2019 Unpublished PoetryNewsPoetryUnpublished

“Adieu!”, followed by the button ‘block’

By July 8, 2019June 16th, 2020No Comments


He believes he is her devotee,

not a stalker.

He says he follows her,

but he is not a haunter.

He says she is his butterfly,

but not his victim.

Chaque jour, chaque evening

He sends all of his attention

to her.

But why is she

“so unyielding and so ungrateful?”

He doesn’t do her wrong,

only fulfills her post box

with emails.

He is convinced he doesn’t invade her,

but has no intention

of ever letting her

not respond.

He doesn’t expect her to love him

because he’s too common,

but he craves her answers


When she doesn’t answer,

he asks for mutual “respect”.

He says he is not a predator,

but a lonely being

forced to act accordingly.

It drives her mad.

She feels as if she is at the earth’s end.

She feels the whole weight of hell

is pressing in

from this little black box –

her smartphone.

His messages are flying, and flying, and flying.

She wants to scream.

Again, a cascade of questions and comments –

a cruel reminder of how rare and uncommon the peace is,

especially online,

but also in the hearts of people,

and everyone in both worlds

wants more and more and more.

We always desire something other

than what we have.

She admits she is the same,

and therefore feels sympathy for him,

for his terrifying earnestness and obsession with her.

Still, sooner or later,

she shall have to stop it all,

to write to him

that she is not

his butterfly,

and he is not

a character of John Fowles,

not The Collector,

that she is not his victim,

just a serene


followed by the button ‘block’.