Nemesis
All the mechanical noises,
the thrum of electricity in the veins of my cubicle,
the brief beeps of protest
elicited by a misplaced cursor,
the buzz of my monitor,
printer,
even the flicker of my digital picture frame,
conspire against my creativity,
damming the imaginative river in my mind,
my soul,
until I am little more than a puddle
of routines and habits and patterns,
dependent on these incessantly sighing machines,
a zombie of clicks and taps,
with one eye on the clock,
one hand on the black dome of the mouse,
dazzled by by manipulation of the technological world,
and oblivious to that world's manipulation
of me.
3 Comments
Audrey Camp
I'm an American expat and freelance writer living in Oslo, Norway with my husband. I love language, adventure, dogs and classic movies.
AHHH! Poetry I understand! and comiserate with... (is that the right word, aud?) yaya!
time to go attack a copy machine with a baseball bat, eh aud?
Living only two cubicles away, this so well describes my experience until our talk - and now I am more aware and though thankful for a job that pays me well, it is just that - a job. It is not who I am. Thank you Audrey for shining a light.