- after Boris
Pasternak
It sold and
sold, the whole world over,
Sales swept the
world from end to end.
A Kindle burned
on the table;
A Kindle burned.
As the spineless
e-reader spun
Around a wireless
window display
Even non-readers
swarmed
To beat against
the myth of fair play
The paradigm
ruptured Guttenberg’s
Old designs made
of ink on paper.
A Kindle burned
on the table;
A Kindle burned.
DRM’s shadow fell
Upon blighted
booksellers:
Shadows of anti-trust,
of crossed-lines,
Of an empire’s remote
USB.
Two hardbacks
fell to the floor
And thudded.
A Kindle on a
nightstand shed e-ink
Tears upon that
mess.
Publishers
vanished within
The hoary market
place.
A Kindle burned
on the table;
A Kindle burned.
Conscience
sputtered without shame
And the margins
that were temptation
Unfolded a
monopoly that cast
A cruciform
shadow.
It swindled and
sold, the whole world over,
Sales swept the
world from end to end.
A Kindle burned
on the table;
A Kindle burned.
1 comment:
Nice.
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