Grey thoughts during an infinitely grey winter, as cars whoooosh, whooooosh on their way to environmental destruction, fulfilling capitalism's self-destructive impulses.............
my lap is unhappy
longing for......
the joy of fulfillment:
when she sits there.......
She is unhappy,
tied down,
chained to the wall,
connected,
but only on a short connector....
I am unhappy:
Why the hell did I buy a "lap" top?
What's the good of its compact size when I don't have wifi??
I miss reading Joyce:
those girl graduates,
he wrote,
and the happy chairs under them.
My unhappy lap,
empty,
is not a happy chair.
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