Staring at these screens, I wonder
if I’ll get sucked inside and live in the vastness
of our Great Collective Unconscious like so many
writers have prophesied.
They tell me about virtual reality – I cringe,
then remind myself you can’t stop progress:
technology accelerates like a sped-up audio file,
and when it gets to the end, will we even
hear the final sound?
(Photo by Reagan Freeman on Unsplash)
One response to “The Final Sound (a poem)”
[…] me I don’t recognize. It’s the part I repress and push down; it comes bursting forth sometimes. The collective unconscious is very real, no matter what you may think. We are not blank slates, and we’ve lived many […]