Writing and Reading (Old Tech)

You are reading
this,
far away
from the time and place
where/when synapses
fired
their ballet
and I thought
a feeling
a rhythm
holding these words –
first sliding in black
ink
on a page,
waiting
for synapses
and time
and fingers
taping
green life
through electric connections to a screen
that holds
and releases
thoughts, words
reconstituted
regained
and printing up,
through black tape,
in a rhythm
of line and page
these words
which bend
and fold –

and, enveloped, travel
to be studied,
held,
approved.
A bored stranger submits
these words,
through the finger ballet, to the machine that prints
these words
for you
to read
now.