maandag 20 februari 2012


Pipes fiercely piercing the skyline
Black smoke they breathe
The dream of Baal
Incarcerated by the slippery slope

Dead dogs and Coca-Cola
We howl no more
Receptive and docile
In the morning and at night
We use the same door

Production is made
We stare without blinking
We focus without thinking
The meds get you through

Even our dreams look desaturated
Is this what Albert meant when he spoke about technology?
Have we become its analogy?
Have we’ve fallen out of our own equation?
Dear Charlie
Dear Orwell
We truly have failed thee

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