the robots who suggest Facebook ads are just ghosts

the bar is crowded so we'll have to lean in 
to hear & misunderstand & misunderstand & misunderstand.
each voice a like of mallet on the wall or yes maybe
a bird caught in a hallway. we take out our phones
like you do when there's a lull in conversation 
& there might be something happening. something is always
happening & there's an article to read the title of.
a friend's mouth is moving but the room is so loud 
it's like there's no words coming out. i miss 
my bed room & i missing having a window. Facebook suggests
i buy a window & i know yes that's what i want
i want it right now. Facebook suggests yes i should buy
a very small night light just like the one i had
when i was six or seven years old-- the one in the shape
of saint mary glowing blue & mom plugging in
the night light & saying that i won't have to be
scared anymore. we don't have to be scared anymore.
my smart phone knows who i am & this proves to me
that maybe i am knowable. that maybe there are 
formulas floating around under my skin. or yes 
the truth is i've always thought that maybe 
there's a sea of ghosts working long hours
to pick the right ads that i want to see. i get one
about discount hotels in new jersey. i want to leave
this city i want to lay on the ocean. no i want
to go farther. i get an ad for the rocket to mars
& i scroll past. yes they know me too well.
no i can't go that far. i want small actionable items.
a rainbow tooth brush. a trans flag. 
yes my phone sees me. face recognition. this isn't
a poem about disconnection. the room is loud
i told you & there are items to make me feel 
more tangible. an electric tooth brush.
a pair of soft pajamas. download a new design program.
i want to design a new skeleton. the ghosts
are passing me notes. they're saying 
we know you need this & i do need all of this.
not just the items, but the attention. the ghosts 
endless working to find what i need. in the room
we're all sitting with our ghosts & the haunting 
is thick in the air. i speak a word aloud
& it turns into a screen. a brilliant lovely screen.
i text the person across from me that i love them.
she loves up & smiles, puts her foot on top
of mine underneath the table. the ads tell me to buy
her something beautiful. the ghosts perch like
eagles on our heads. my mouth is full of light
so i don't open it & the room thrums until we leave
& step out onto the open street where silence rushes
long & black as the asphalt.