You will ask me what I was doing inside the cliff side cave.
But an answer will not be given by a voice like me; the end of this happening will.
But if I tell you everything observed in every detail,
and if I do not imagine or assume,
I might as well from now call myself “The Omnivisionist”.
So I start by saying this story is about will.
And it went like this.
A TV set strolling in the desert long turned off
has been looking for a finger to press the button writing ‘on’
Legs of iron, embedded with wheels,
controlled by a global remote-control,
a woman is in charge of it in a lab ion Mount Everest.
This TV is not looking for a plug.
The solar energy plates on its sides suggest that.
It is seeking an innocent hand and it shall never rest without.
The set passes beside an oasis indifferent. No nomads there.
It does not wash, it does not seek shade.
On it walks with dare.
It climbs soft hills without sinking either wheel a bit.
It sides a few cliffs to meet the other half of the desolated scenery
And it moves to as far inside the desert as it can reach.
There in the middle of nowhere
the screen does not sweat during stroll
Nor does it dump in cold night
And in darkness I know it moves too
for it is never where I last saw it every evening before
Dawn by dawn cracking the dusty curtain
as I look for her with my telescope in vain,
(to be continued)
Christos Rodoulla Tsiailis
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/part1-2102-epoh-eht/
