Meg Pokrass: Enlightened Adventures of Mark Zuckerberg 

Mark Zuckerberg Gallops Toward Us with a Gun

We spied the loveless form
of Mark Zuckerberg in the distance,
galloping towards us, gun drawn.
It didn’t take long to recognize him.
He was whipping his horse.
“That’s definitely him,” said my husband.
“It’ll be all over in the flick of an eye”.
He was right, and we spent
the rest of our lives together dead.


Role Playing as Suggested by Psychotherapist, Dr. Wolfgang Pappenheimer

“Too many competing bottom feeders, Hon,” says Zuckerberg, wearing a fin in bed, where Maga Winklebreath, esteemed Republican sex worker, hooks him with mollusc-shaped eyes. “Say, is that a dorsal fin in your pocket, or are you happy to see me?” she blurts, all seaweed hair, bioluminescent lipstick, wiggling like a stuck jellyfish— illuminating unseen caves of Mark Zuckerberg’s shipwrecked heart.


The Dungeon, 2045

The door to Mark Zuckerberg’s dungeon
was barred and the windows
spider-webbed over and the
lights were never off
but never on
with no breeze
or sound, while the world
continued to regenerate.

Those who walked by
sensed the remorseless shadow
of a man who never
had a friend.



Fact Checking the Downward Dog

“Buddhists say there are 121 states of consciousness,” Maga Winklebreath explains to Mark Zuckerberg as he’s performing naked yoga on the floor of his Hawaiian compound. “But only 3 involve misery and suffering,” she explains.

“Maga, don’t be ridiculous,” Mark growls from the Downward Dog position, forehead flat against the Sultanabad Persian rug, ball sacks bobbing like overstretched Christmas stockings.



Still Life with Zuckerberg and Egg

Some believe it was the moon that made him slight as a fool. Some say it was an egg he could almost see, but when he narrowed his gaze, it disappeared. Some say creating an egg is harder than being one. Some say the seagull of happiness perched above Mark Zuckerberg’s head, ready to take a giant dump. Others say the seagull of happiness politely pointed its bird-ass the other way. Some say his loyal sex worker, Maga Winklebreath, finally left him. Some say that he stared at that darkness so long, he grew into a new kind of bird.

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Copyright 2025 Meg Pokrass

Meg Pokrass is an American writer living in Inverness, Scotland. Her many books include First Law of Holes: New and Selected Stories (Dzanc Books, 2024).