Asymmetric Warfare V.

On the other end of this telephone
There is a machine of love in disgrace
That robots your words
In a tone that says nothing
That is always the same
No matter the mood in which it is approached
Indifferent of the matter laid down after it
Parcels of words left in a dead letter box
Of electronics and mechanism
A box of plastic and compound metal
Capable of caging pain and loneliness
Incapable of containing love.


James Piers Taylor, 29/6/2006 in transit