After hearing one too many complaints about the shortcomings of this or that new technology. #202

&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp Follow bread
crumbs down
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp the path,
around the
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp trunk of
the tree
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp and into
the underbrush,
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp the lush
garden path
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp is just
up ahead,
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp that clearing.
Allow yourself
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp to be
yourself, breathe.
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp Get out
of the
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp dark forest.
No. Just
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp go. We
never needed
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp you here.
Go build
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp a kibbutz,
a nation.
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp Build an
economy based
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp on who
toils most,
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp works hardest,
studies hardest.
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp Don’t even
try to
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp remember me.
This morning,
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp while quelling
a jonesing
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp for coffee
I stood
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp across from
a Barista
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp who could
have told
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp this whole
story with
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp the flick
of her
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp wrist. It’s
that infectious.
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp The whine
and moan
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp of her
foam language.
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp The groan
of machines
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp we’ve created.
The long
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp O’s and U’s
and too
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp many S’s.
A bit
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp of shite
must fall
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp into life,
and so
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp why choose
to lament
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp its existence,
to worry
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp and complain
about all
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp the long
days, those
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp endless hours.
If you
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp don’t like
it go
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp back to
the forest.
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp Go back
and let
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp your beard
grow long,
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp let your
fingernails grow
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp into sharp
points, let
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp the moon
that comes
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp out once
a month
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp turn you
into some
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp freak of
old movies.
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp If you
don’t like
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp it, head
down to
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp the beach
and strip-off
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp what’s left
of your
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp clothing, smock
they make
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp you wear
at work,
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp the button
down shirt
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp underneath. Strip
them down
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp to your
nothing skin
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp and step
into high
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp rolling tide,
lay down,
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp roll around,
feel what
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp water turns,
see if
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp the gills
you once
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp had grow
back, if
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp you can
breathe beneath
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp the water,
if Ocean,
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp from which
your grandfather’s
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp grandfather crawled
out of
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp remembers you
by DNA
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp or simply
by family
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp resemblance. If
you don’t
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp like it,
tell cells
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp to quit
dividing, stop
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp multiplying. Tell
them to
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp fuse back,
together, two
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp into one,
until there’s
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp nothing left
of you
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp but one
packed amoeba,
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp and when
that’s what’s
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp left, strangle
your own
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp self with
the part
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp of you
that used
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp to be
the fingers.
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp I will
tell you
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp this, for
all those
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp long stories
we tell
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp each other,
the fairy
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp tales and
hard science,
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp nothing comes
close to
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp this reality,
which is
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp far less
dynamic and
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp more boring
than one
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp can imagine.
The good
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp book didn’t
get it.
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp Follow along
the path
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp that leads
from point
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp A to
point B.
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp It’s a
one way
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp street, cul-de-sac
that shows
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp no outlet,
no Starbucks,
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp no forest,
no ocean.
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp Sit down
here. See.



A day is not done, until it's filled with words.

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