They screen out
All the smells and sweat
All the wild barbarian growth
Springing from the rampant earth
Their living, breathing mother.
Earphones executing songs
Drumming rain and choralling lark
Alone – web-bound they shout for hearing
Publicise their outward worth
Compare the image of each other.
The being’s arid seed cries out
To root and shoot and flower and fruit
To give and meet and spread it’s seed –
But all it hears are tombstone texts
Terse, brain-tweets of a robot lover.
Sell the image of your body
Kiss your unformed soul goodbye
Fulfil each siren ad-man’s message
To keep the ego’s flame alive.
There is no book beneath the cover.