In memory of the note
In the bottle
On the beach
In the sand
Behind the rock
After I met
The beautiful girl
Under the trees
At noon
While the breeze
Swayed the leaves
And me
On the day
In my life
That I would most
Like to forget.

Chug along,
Don't make too much of a noise.
You want to make an impact,
But you don't really want them to find you,
Do you ?
Do you want to be seen,
Or heard,
Or felt ?

This is *******.
This poem, that is.
It's *******.
I'm *******,
You're *******,
It's all *******.
Ok, fine,
I take some of it back.
You're not ******* :)

A pulsar, beating away in deepest space,
Sounding out its dead chronology.

The fell beast slouches no more: it is born!
Yes, it is born, and walks among you,
And you see it not!

Like flies they are ****** about,
The churning of the oceans sends them
Spinning outwards, the outer wall
Making its presence felt with
A resistance vague yet firm.

Into this ever widening, pulsating
World, with its
Regularization, like prison bars of time
And space gripping you, parcelling
You into regular cubes, the
Common atoms for the
Common people,
Into this are you ******,
Headlong and without choice,
Without precedent,
Being forced to
Retreat from retreat,
Naked and hungry,
To find what you can,
And salvage what you can,
Of it and
Of you.

Stone columns,
Half illuminated,
Half in shadow,
Hiding behind them
The numbers,
The ciphers,
The unknown,
The shadowy figures,
Massed,
Waiting.

Smash the frikking screens,
Smash all of them !
Tear down all the wires,
Pull out all the cables !
Pulverize the mechanical minds,
The mechanical system,
The mechanical men.
Is this what you want ?
And what for ?
What's the point ?
You're bugged anyway.

They shuffled on down
The long winding road between the mountains,
Each following the other,
Their faces stony and grim.
"Don't go!", I shouted at them,
"Don't you see that it
Doesn't have to be this way?"
I ran around them,
Waved my hands and tried
To get them to stop.
But they marched on,
Slowly, forlornly, on
Into the falling night.