An original poem by P. F. Hawkins.
The theoretician sits at the page
Stares at the screen's bright-backed glow
And wills the reception of words
As ordered as 'lectrons on a platter.
For the horizon of youth is tired, dusty.
A new horizon must be sought
In the scrambled assemblages'
Deforestation of ancestral structures;
Vomiting meanings, knifing narratives.