A lifelong cinephile,
I no longer watch films—
I’m perfectly content
with trailers.
More words to ponder at maciejmodzelewski.com
Tag: digital age
Bag of wind
Is it a matter of writing implements that we write more
to say less, or—with the power of large numbers in play—
do we have to face the truth that we have always been
the blabbering sort, only back then largely confined
to a tavern and a church porch?
More words to ponder at maciejmodzelewski.com
Artin
It appeared suddenly
from behind the smoky horizon,
a non-dimensional apparition
I like to call an artin,
with all its pretended musings
and occasional hallucinations—
not quite Hal or Skynet,
but who cares about the old bogeys
when one day you might find yourself
in Josef K.’s shoes?
More words to ponder at maciejmodzelewski.com
I am worried
If someone I know
that they live in my time zone
reads my latest poem at two in the morning
(likes have a timestamp, profiles geolocation),
I can’t help but worry if they are okay.
Maybe they’re suffering from insomnia
or a broken heart, or they’re trying to forget
the pain in a hospital bed,
or they just grabbed their phone
on the way to the bathroom,
but whatever it is, I
am worried.
How selfish of me.
More words to ponder at maciejmodzelewski.com
My analogue youth
Sometimes I wonder what my kids would make of my analogue youth:
the crackling demos by garage punk bands making up for their lack of skill with savagery and volume;
rewinding tangled tapes with a pencil;
hunting for R20 batteries so that the boom box wouldn’t die halfway through a party on a park bench;
a festival in Jarocin where strawberry jam was as good on a slice of bread as it was for stiffening a Mohawk,
and every sip of plonk had that familiar aftertaste of sulphur;
not to mention confusing loo attendants with a fictitious Honorary Urine Donor Card
that supposedly entitled the holder to a discount on the use of urinals across the country.
Sometimes I wonder what their memories will be of growing up in the digital age
of mobile zombies and keyboard warriors.
hidden pilcrow 