cyberabad pt.7

voicEs of telephonedrunkensAilors Starve me
ShadoWs of minormisunderstandings Give me the creEps
beutiful bodiEs bUrningthemselves in the ovenS of the futuRe
wirEs, plUgs and enterfaces stare at me frOm the Mirror
the past, the present and the uglY
I'm hungrY, with radiaNt hair
I'm pretTy with shoes on my eYesI'm leaving now with intergalactic forces that came to dinner last night
to chat aboUt the cyberspace
over a glass of wine.

...and Sokrat was his name.

I don't like winter

I was thinking –
is this the directiOn this should go?
and does it really matter
cause, honestly, who ever comes here...

How does capitalism incorporate every counter measure, absorbs and swallows it?

...with ease.
(over a cup of tea)