Home // November.6.2017 // Rob Chalfen



plug in your sophistries at any point
condition your reclusive windows

autumn touched its majesty on the trees beside the train
now approaching your approach to the embodied realm
while we practice exercise in silence
in the words behind the woods
in the panopticon of travel
with the view strategically arranged
the byzantine caged substations of condensed electricity
the quaint glimpse along the autumn lane
the yachts cocooned in plastic
for the stoic winter reaches
workmen painting shingles on the old white cape codder
quiet marshes where a few white egrets flap deliciously
with my own avatar
my own doctrine of slumber
my own translations of sense into sensibility
just saying it would be nice, for once
if we weren’t beaten about the head by robots
I really don’t want to hear all that fucking screaming
from your hideous little devices
or all the overbearing announcements
next stop : the robot capital of Hell

please chronicle the rise of your skepticism
in our regard
any element no matter how small
that’s changed from the beginning
changes everything – the world as we find it
is a manifest of evolved complexity
this is how one route played out
the part is a matrix of the whole
thus technology is indifferent to your small mispleasures
the world is a scholarship of choices made long ago
we are enraptured in industrial savagery
the silver light reflected on the water
the silver sky – the harbor of mysteries

the problem of the city is that everyone has forgotten themselves.


11 Oct. 2017 – train to North Station



Banner graphic source: Photo (cropped) of crowds in Chicago's Crown Fountain Millenium Park in 2008. Uploaded by photographer Serge Melki to Wikimedia, and used here in accordance with the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic license.

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