All day my eyes do my brains’ bidding.
They are everywhere and nowhere,
Like I don’t have a say in it anymore:
Today this is called data gathering.
But they did this yesterday too
and all the yesterdays before that.
The crystals in my skull scan signs,
car plates and the web to fashion words.
Shop fronts, advertisements and gossip
to make sentences that drip inside me,
Like syrup from a melting cortex,
Churning out feeble meanderings on life.
poem © copyright Brian Shirra 2013