Grind of design & demands
of clients will steal my time
& leave me sucked dry –
my
desire for better things –
for
love & art –
for contact with
a warm person –
don’t fade
under their email diatribes
of ‘back by tomorrow?’ –
As
light falls I am still lit by my
harmful screen
[stood erect
in Cohen’s useless play-pen
of untouchable stuff] –
I can
choose to pause –
but just a
minute –
not much more –
a
notification returns me to a
grand scheme –
I’ll visualise
wildest of dreams
[& charge
an hourly rate for each hour
as I work my four thousand
week life] –
let me loose of it
soon –
do let me do less too