Cybernetic Pornography Café

By Luca Penne

The creamy touch of child pornographers sours the ether. I fold my laptop computer. The café patrons sneer at pictures that turn honest people to pillars of salt. It wasn’t like this when I was a child and the local molester wept in the playground while cops and parents tried to comfort him, explaining that God had made him that way. We took turns encouraging him to molest Gracie, the girl with the nasty tongue. She liked showing her underpants to boys too young to fully appreciate the sight. But the molester avoided her. He avoided all of the children, in fact, and preferred to expose himself at a distance, cowering under the chestnut tree on the lawn of the Episcopal Church. He died of a broken heart. The principle closed the school so we could attend his funeral. He smiled in his coffin. No one smiles in this cybernetic pornography café. I want to scream, “Sex is fun! Teach your children to enjoy themselves.” But men and women alike grimace so seriously I almost fear they’re learning something neither puberty nor menopause can prove.

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Luca Penne’s work has appeared in several e and print journals. He lives in West Lebanon NH and builds barns, when employed, which isn’t often.


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