freedom of speech
the page seemed innocent on the screen play of life
not yet computed and sterile but what better adaptation
of blocked writing by an innocent censor of apathy
for an empty cartridge on the blank canvas called reality
and yet what a relief that neurons had exhausted themselves
firing at invisible problems and surreal contenders for
thought of the moment and contempt fixed in time
synaptic displacement idiosyncratic only in absence
refuge or incarceration straitjacket of nothingness’ boredom
or maybe serene uneventfulness unfolding in languished arrest
framed as reference point of perplexing perspective
and finally an outburst of words with whatever elusive meaning there is …
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