This Blank Generation Poem by DM W

This blank generation,
That surfs virtual worlds,
Are so untalkative and tense.
They cling to their iphones
Like they were rosary beads.
As though they were keeping
Death's ardent symbols at bay.
They cherish glittering images:
That flood the senses,
Like swarms of mosquitoes.
It seems that we are breeding
A new race of high speed nomads:
Solitary commuters that
Avoid the keen light of communion.
Everything moves so fast.
Neurotics & narcissists
Are in their element.
Stillness is a pipe dream.