Don’t Flip Around. No Flipping.

I don't have a remote control in my hand like I used to when I was watching television in the 90s but I can still control everything I see inside the lid of this laptop which is a portal that really takes me places that really removes the presence from my head and puts it into this very poem into this very document in this very browser window which is a place where I go a place that didn't exist thirty years ago and I am not old enough to know what it was like before the television or cinema or the radio or electricity or newspapers or industry back when there were only books and nature and writing and reading and theatre and puppet shows and front port music back when you just had to look around at what is around you sitting in a tavern or a field overlooking a field with crops as the crop birds hunting mice and rabbits and small vermin soared and circled the sky and dove down with a devilish grin on their beak or inside the contents of the box in which you live where the fireplace flashes and flickers and casts shadows on the walls where there are paintings that you painted not because there was leisure but because you had to paint to let out a little of the tortured artist you were born pandering to