There was an article in The Guardian today: what would Philip Larkin have made of social media?
Maybe something like?
Easter holidays, again.
This time with a Covid twist
And the inevitable delays
Caused by this shower of shits.
To pass the time, I tried watching
Videos on TikTok,
Some fool trying to make art
Out of lighting farts,
A million followers thus inspired
To come on baby, light my fire.
Good God! And a gaggle of girls
Ready to put it out, I’ve no doubt,
While I wait for the next poetry slam
Where nobody is quite sure
Who I am. I suppose I ought
To get an Instagram.
If I cared. Perhaps I do.
I used to think that
It was Mum and Dad
Or plain bad luck,
But really, it’s social media
That fucks you up.