A Compass I Can Read...
Being online these days is jarring,
Disquieting,
Something inescapable even in the wee hours.
Algorithms and AI battle like tin soldiers of the mind,
Interspersed with the snake-rattles of commercial hucksterism,
An outright attack on attention and focus,
Nickel-and-dime scalpel cuts,
Our abraded collective soul weary,
A burr under the saddle of civilization,
The constant buzz and crack of intellect's corrosion.
I find refuge in the finite confines of paper and old sites,
A haven from pop-up battering rams,
A quiet sea of quiet at three o'clock in the morning.
Finally I can cast my line,
Play with thought fish,
Come home with a story of words on my string
AquarianM
By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 10/29/2023