Dear Ginsberg

I see the best minds of my generation being destroyed
By plastic backlit rectangles while peering at displays,
Flicking frenetically from topic to topic.
All of this brought on by the Helvetican f and co.
In universities across the world, desks rumble
Amid a flurry of crystalized colours
Spewing from half eaten fruit.

Is this the future: a 140 character generation
Leading the charge of the new knowledge economy?
My question is molded after their backs;
They have a hunch and a pale façade seeking acclaim.

Is this humanity: synced with muted limbic systems
In ritual trance our fingers dance and thumbs like?
Lauding a pantheon of ones and zeroes
Buying our future with our good looks.

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