in the new homes where true

presence is missing where true

presence is lacking

in the new homes furnished and

loved like airports or motorways or

shopping centres

in the new homes made out

of remains of tactile lust and worn

out by endless disconnection

who’s talking with these deep

silences who’s crying with these

virulent noises too many voices the

tunnel is restless slow violence high

pleasure technology jolt pain and

learning means adapting to

discomfort

which figures which temporalities

lie outside of the rightful range of

dwellings which silhouettes which

faces persevere outside in the

corners in obtuse curves out in the

marginal fields

by novel intelligences by simulacra

replaced in or pushed out of

workforces by skiltronics by

skinjobs by pluralities of

dispossessed and disposables

civilisation itself is the

aestheticisation of animate and

inanimate waste

civilisation itself is where sentience

is only means to an en end

ampere divinities soaring in

gravitation my pray for modernity

is the rediscovery of absurd

compassion

ampere divinities surging in

seismicity my pray is that this

bottomless thirst advertised for

salvation might give way to a

kinder creation

quiet and vast is the solitude of the

self expanding within this living

network system

quiet and vast and multifold in

identity in reconnaissance in

virtuality and in destiny

(From Fervor Modernus)