Why Write Poetry When There Is Photoshop?
The lesser light of my wi-fi connection pales next to the blinking
of my sleeping laptop on the nightstand. If most men lead
lives of quiet desperation, we have made a kindling
of our morning paper for the bonfire of bytes
in the virtual, wireless calf we worship to distraction.
A new poetry must back slowly away, brushing the ash
of seventy years away as with a lodge-pole bough, until
our footsteps are erased back to the Confessional. There
we will leave the heresy until words are audible, spoken.
copyright 2008 by William Marchl
of my sleeping laptop on the nightstand. If most men lead
lives of quiet desperation, we have made a kindling
of our morning paper for the bonfire of bytes
in the virtual, wireless calf we worship to distraction.
A new poetry must back slowly away, brushing the ash
of seventy years away as with a lodge-pole bough, until
our footsteps are erased back to the Confessional. There
we will leave the heresy until words are audible, spoken.
copyright 2008 by William Marchl
posted by webmaster at 06:26
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