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It is all nothing.
Staring at the white and
Lines and numbers,
Adding nothing to the world,
Confiscating life from Bach.
Glorious, loud earphones
Shear me from insanity.
Gently moving arpeggios
Make sense of the world’s structures.
Bach is not drowned by the
The bleakness of our world.
Yet he permeates it and
Strips away the shit.
He leads us to subtle
Victories of joy over
Concrete obstacles to love.

Yet here I sit with numbers,
Vicious lines and terrible white.
Microsoft’s blues do not soften the blows.
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