Desert

This screen and it's accompanying keys
do not hold a key to anything my fingers
can touch.

And I will desert them now, for
forty days in the desert of senses
and senselessness. To write

without metaphor, Let's stay away
from machines, and let's question our
need for them. They make us feel like

they need us, and they do; that's how
commodities survive--talking without
a voice, and demon's whisper in your

head communicating things you wouldn't
hear otherwise. Such is desire that must
be ratified by a dollar and devotion,

unclean. We will see a much greater
light as we turn down or off the lights;
closing my eyes I imagine it sparking.