live blogging the apocalypse

I am a sex drug

un-aware of how to approach “blogging”

without the overwhelming sensation of self-consciousness.

i keep trying to write

but my cat is sitting on my head

without any kind of permission

or courteous behaviour.

the cat has a name;

though i tried to change it to “kate middleton”

so i kept on saying “kate middleton”

but nothing ever happened,

only glass-eyed stares

and more myspace graves.

After the rapture

the only thing left will be

thousands of online profiles,

un-liked facebook comments,

un-sold “Bones: Season 6” dvds and

un-read celebrity tweets

by “james harden” promoting “bon iver.”

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This has been a S.E.O Poem