Human Satellite

Cucumber Lodge

 Image

Floating in the lazy river,

Melted down with rates of flicker,

Softened up your sticky mind,

Selecting anything you find

To look upon to listen to.

You model it, it models you.

Ephemera selected

Thinking write protected,

You’re free to surf, to reselect

Programming to instill affect

Keeping you afloat detached

Artificially crosshatched,

Thoughtlessly amusement filled,

Mind and body semi-killed,

Anchored now your living soul

Your hand upon remote control.

You sense a need to move to think,

Perhaps something to eat or drink.

Getting up, you try to flee,

You feel an awkward gravity.

Autopilot on not thinking,

Blankly staring hardly blinking,

Breaking orbit hard to fight

You’re a human satellite.

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