3. |
This room is cluttered.
In one corner too many chairs are piled,
more than ever will be needed and they look like intruders.
In the opposite corner there are two hat
stands pushed against a table, there is no place to hang a coat and certainly
no need.
There are three people in the room, none of
them have a coat and they already each have a chair.
One of the chairs has cables attached to
it; it is a smart chair. You can control the screens from this chair, maybe.
There are two screens, but the people in the
room have introduced a third. It is not needed but it is the only one that
accesses sound; there are many cables, many many cables, but none provide
sound.
But it’s ok – they are speaking in whispers
and foreign languages. They understand part of what each of them says.
The rest is guesswork.
They are guessing about food and where to
eat.
They speak about a restaurant that is
hidden in the centre of a place that you can go to at night time - where nobody
who goes in the daytime, ever returns.
As there is no need.
There is a guardian that will stop you
entering unless you say specifically say that you are hungry.
You have to say this in his language.
You will not know what his language is
until you speak to him and he will not understand you unless you know.
Only then will you be able to eat.
There is an alternative, in another place.
There you can eat beef, only beef.
The beef comes from a long way away, from
Japan.
I think it comes on boats.
Devotees of an obscure religion massage the
animals as they graze on the lush grass that grows on the boat.
This will be the happiest beef you will
ever eat.
Though some might be seasick.
So, there is a choice.
Each choice comprises a risk.
Each choice is cluttered.
This room is cluttered.
No comments:
Post a Comment