Canto CXC

The Kafka scholar on the radio
espouses on the book as a bound object—
a closed system that can transform into

an open one when pages prize apart.
Did I say radio? Well, in a sense,
but I was listening to the podcast.

Their sober voices trickled through headphones
as I cut through the housing estate—
two bags of groceries, walking alone,

yet still a citizen of the internet.
I think of the days when my main escape
from the “real world” during long commutes

was from reading a book or Walkman tapes.
The world always seemed more real when I returned,
as if I’d woken from a heavy sleep—

but now, the taps and swipes with which I wend
my way through cyberspace just seems to drain
the substance from the world, like virtual friends

are no different to phantoms in the brain.


2 Comments (+add yours?)

    Mar 07, 2012 @ 19:15:43

    A Canto a day? Impressive. Witty, evocative, moving.


  2. peter litton
    Mar 08, 2012 @ 01:00:54

    This poem stirred warm memories of old technology

    My friend has a turntable on her stereo. Oh the joy to remove thick black vinyl from the white sleeve, admire the artwork on the album cover and let the stylus slowly descend to reveal the warm analogue sound of Revolver by the Beatles.


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