Saturday, 4 August 2012

Web 2.0

Lost again in meaningless words,
Constant lines with no beginning or end,
Carried on electric light pages or repeated chord patterns.
All there is to say has been said.
I've read it in print twice over.
It wasn't worth reading the first time round,
But it was written, so it's consumed,
CAPITALIZED, capitulated and compared,
Then consigned to the archival dustbin,
Held in warehouses on whirring machines,
With blank faces,
Served on demand in bites and in bits,
As banal as the noughts and ones that hold it,
Or the individual squiggles on the page.

Let's play friendship by numbers.

Restriction is the mother of invention,
And infinite choice is no choice at all.
So here's something else to assimilate and throw back into the abyss.