I especially loved Jessica's defense of good old-fashioned phone calls, and the idea that this has something to do with poetry:
I’ve noticed how interactions, especially in-person interactions, have changed since the ubiquity of text messaging, Facebook, and smartphones. I’m not a Luddite, but I do sometimes miss the days when I had to make a plan and just show up somewhere at a specified time, when I was with a person and really with that person (not texting with someone else), when I ended up talking to my roommates’ family and friends because I happened to answer the phone when they called. I know two phone numbers right now – my own and my husband’s. I like it that my mom still memorizes phone numbers.It reminded me of LJ Moore's recent review of Marisa Crawford's The Haunted House, Switchback's latest title: "Perhaps one of the most lingering and ecstatic effects of reading The Haunted House is that it reminds the reader what it used to feel like to really spend time with people."
But how does any of this relate to poetry? I think that I use correspondence as a site of invention and attention. Wolf and Leo spin intricate fantasies for each other and make a game of long-distance communication (in the matchbook poems particularly). If they were physically together, they might just play Lexulous on their phones or sit side-by-side on the sofa, one laptop per lap.
So, I officially declare today Call Somebody on Their Land Line Day, or if you did that for Mother's Day yesterday, I declare it Write a Poem in the Second Person to a Friend You Miss Day. Or how 'bout Ring Somebody's Doorbell Day??