“All conditioning aims at that: making people like their social destiny.”

-Aldous Huxley A Brave New World

Small Fingertips

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

ad nauseum.

The vertigo workers climb bell towers

to sight the mausoleum

Direction embedded

The program enlisted

Small fingertips tap minutes

into a punch card into a product

which is the brain.

2.4.12