Burroughs taught me to
lie, steal, take drugs, and create
strange images but always said
never, I repeat never cheat the muse
The hand points on the dial to six
And another twist to indicate nine
The time we have is three
This time we must be freed
Cut loose the shackles which bind your feet
Stand still on this road, a forked street
Take steps to the place we've agreed to meet
In the digital realm, everything is made into a choice.
The medium is biased toward the discrete.
This often leaves out things we have chosen to notice
or record, and forces choices when none need to be made.
With all the memes, broken feeds
And lost dreams, I was wondering
If I can live inside your head rent-free?
what can I say that hasn't been told
what can I give that hasn't been sold
Is there any left that doesn't have mold?
A Memory in its own skin
A Dream yet to begin
All the things that can’t be said