The cursor on the screen remained
trapped in supreme whiteness
unable to move itself despite
the huge space of the 1080p monitor
that projects the sentiment
of a billion people on earth searching
for a semblance of purpose
domesticated by the huge spider
with its electronic legs buffering
in your head the heavy loaded spinach
caught in the web of technological
ropes that bind man to medieval schools
tied to the wired typewriter and
the inorganic mouse beneath the knowing
fingers that sought the comfort
of the underwater graveyard in my closet.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem