The worry-machine of materialism
Lurches cliffward on fuel of empiricism.
Master and slave take dictation from the same dog,
A rabid cur sometimes called capitalism.
Nor does philosophy exist, being fallen
Into self-fables, intellectualism.
Can hearts anamnesically learn love-sickness,
Self-consumption, via such consumerism?
Tomorrow we will institute the World Center
For the Imminent Destruction of All Ism.
For now, semi-audible complaint will suffice,
A heady, modern luxury: criticism.
Nicola is not bird or cage, light or spectrum,
But something invisible trapped in a prism.