Someone posted, old people die
in a world they do not recognise.
I remain challenged by younger
voices half a world away
with ideas fresh and demanding
that scroll upwards as we speak.
In my dotage, I may retreat
to fragile, corporeal safety,
but will let my bare thoughts hunt
and run amongst the cubs,
and expire hooked to machines
feeding me Facebook and Discord,
where my soul’s memory will remain,
rudely enveloped by the memes
of an ageless generation.