I spent only a week, barely looking at screens, my glasses used for evening, reading, and writing in my journal – sometimes not even then for now my hand and glasses simply keep lines straighter – who needs lines
but today had to come, with its return to a manufactured bug in the program of life identified as work, and my eyes quiver and shake against the bug’s light that pours from the screens where we sink our days in exchange for pay … my eyes take in this sanitized correction copy of the world and try to shake free from its digitized imbalance
“Where? Where is the open road,” ask my eyes, “… where is harsh sunlight, and sand to settle upon?”
“it’s out there… replies my soul … we will be immersed in it again … but for now we will witness the world from the books of our dreams”
ed from original v 5-21-2022
Spread Your Dreams 