* * image: Association-sclerodermie.fr
Paul Klee, The Timbalier
Attack technoloqv
I looks at him accusingly. I blame my indifference. What can I do, I thought? This screen, the mirror of the world, am I guilty of being a witness? Why assume he not the horror it disseminates? Like a rattlesnake ready to attack, its cable trying to connect to my conscience. Not at all disturbed, I threaten to blow fuses. Interjection spite, in a torrent of vulgarity. I take the exclamation point in flight and strike a direct circuit in the eye of Big Brother. It sees red and goes off in an explosion of information. I'll get the broom to pick up the damage: continuous news, reality shows, commercials and repetitive stun. Then I go to bed in the understanding of dreams.
0 comments:
Post a Comment