Poetry? What is wrong with me?
Carrier lights flickering in dusky twilight
Information dancing up a storm
VU meters dip to the beat, high as shit
Something about this scene is not the norm
Closing off the pulse, looking for the darkness
Turning up the dreams, looking for the light
Coming down from dreams, looking for a answer
Something about this scene is not quite right
Words scroll endlessly on the windows
People attest to care who lives or dies
Information living out it’s microsecond lifespan
Packets racing, no thought to hows or whys
Tube fed babies nestling in the flickering mirrors
“Buy now, you must have our product to be right”
Hard drive lights flashing on all the servers
Commercialism blazing terabits into the night
One single human sits behind one single desk
Thinking of one other single human who couldn’t care less
One single finger strikes one single key
One single answer finds its way to me
City spinning outward, the myriad millions
nine tenth asleep / one tenth awake
each one dreaming of commercialized answers
be rich and own a BMW, for capitolism’s sake
Did you see me there behind the windows
Could you recognize the flavor of my words
If I called tomorrow would you even answer
If I cried out, could you say you heard
Poetry, they say, is so self centered
Hard to imagine other, fictional plights
But you can write other people’s stories
You can send your own kilobits into the night
Hack the Spew!
October 1st, 2003 at 9:32 am
I really really like the last half of this. The part starting with “Tube-fed babies”. In particular, I like the verse about the single human and the last verse. Quite nice. Good imagery.