Bits of torn paper and shards of glass mingling in the funnel clouds within the heavenly cotton membrane that holds all the people on the home-shaped globe at the very bottom of a forgotten bag of marbles.
COMM 210
“It’s a question of value,” said the professor.
But I want to ask her, “What’s your value?”
Where’s you’re heart?
-Tucked into your cold, concrete skyscraper of a power point presentation?
-Did it die with the batteries in the microphone that carries your voice to the 1200 empty, apathetic ears that are ignoring you?
-Or is it in the pocket of your juvenile green jacket?
Does it bother you that no one is listening to you?
It does?
Well, it bothers me that you don’t really are about the answers to your courtesy ‘how are you’s?’
I’m sorry I’m mean, I think I’m sick.
No comments:
Post a Comment