February Poem 10/28
Obleak Strategies
What was once acts of creation left to you and imagination
Are now outsourced to automated thinkers
Streams to surf for flow of thought
A well run dry from seeds of doubt
Eno laments; Neves' six more for sorrow
Net gain, ten lost, I guess I'll see you tomorrow
Blank index cards are left scattered in the halls
Who left them? Unsure, that much I cannot recall
Oblique Strategy of the day: Do the last thing first