Pulling words from thin air,
air so thin
they barely materialize
into the light of this screen,
and when they do
they make little sense.
Merely black marks,
easily deleted
as though never there, although
once out there they will hover
and who will read all these hovering words
and thoughts and ideas and
do they have a life span
of a year or maybe a millennia
in this clouded world of I.T.?
“You are hurrying to the sweet place,
To the nonsense chasing your spirit
And in the nonsense you look for answers.”
~ Dejan Stojanovic, Circling: 1978 - 1987
No comments:
Post a Comment