Pick, pick, pick, too scared to eliminate anything, waste products and babies, time only to pick. Pick. Pick. Ursula Le Guinn wrote a story in which one person suffered so everyone else could live happily ever after. But the pickers don’t make anyone happy. Just send stuff. Go faster or lose a non-existent wage. On the telly, on the phone, on the tablet, on the stick, the Archangel Gabriel made me laugh when he announced ‘I want to buy one of your material objects’. You too can watch it anywhere, even in The Jungle. Talk about Icarus flying too close to the son. The what? The SUN. It’s the whole bloody lot of us. We’ll frazzle and fry in heaven and hell and still won’t fathom it’s all around us, of us, in us. Just keep picking.
This site uses cookies for analytics. Accepting is optional – rejecting won't affect how the site works. See the Privacy Policy for detail.