“All conditioning aims at that: making people like their social destiny.”
-Aldous Huxley A Brave New World
like knitting needles pick through tangled wire
Awaken something untouchable
paper-fine and not human
Let us touch, but feel less
The tactile sense is not to excite the flesh,
but the circuitry of distraction unconscionable.
Our words dwell in flatlands
compressed like animal organs
caked in fur on a dark highway
no perpetrator in sight,
but if you dig deepest you will reach the other side of Earth
Soundless yet buzzing efficiently
high speeds and all thoughts thinkable.
It’s not romantic.
It’s not even sweet and silver,
but sweat, order, labor, factor and quota.
Santa’s little helpers
binge and splurge
The vertigo workers climb bell towers
to sight the mausoleum
The program enlisted
Small fingertips tap minutes
into a punch card into a product
which is the brain.