The entire globe
One single brain,
My millions of neurons,
Synapses an eyes,
Billions of sensors and nerve-ends
In one worldwide web.

Wastch drop after drop
Of water or poison
Combine in one swelling river,
Humanity´s Ganges,
Flowing higway
Of mankind´s collective brain
Overflowing with thoughts,
Images, offers, ideas,
Everything seen, everything told,
Everybody´s drinkink-water,
Everybody´s washroom.

Stream of consciousness for the world,
Splendid, uncontrollable,
Tameless, irresponsible.

I acceot neither limit nor ban,
Respect neither truth nor lie,
Catch me if you can.
I am nobody, I am everybody
I am yourself
Your own private dreams,
Trivial, forbidden, ingenious.
I am the truth of the future,
Outside me there is
No existence.

Call me Anarchy,
Billion-armede hydra,
Parasite or fungus, whatever,
I am deaf to name-calling.
I am here.

Television by Michael Bjørk

The box is my Shepard,
I shall want
Nothing else.
It shall lead me
Along all ways
I need to know.

My best friend, too,
That´s what the telly is
Who else would talk, wisper, gossip,
Who would stay up with me
Those many late nights,
Who would change subject
The second I´m bored,
Who would watch me grow fatter
Who would smile and entertain,
Give me sports and excitment
With no expectation in return?
Another friend like that
You can´t find.

Stay with me, box, don´t
Leave me in my hour of darkness,
Hear my prayers,
Save me
From the powerlessness
Of my hands,
The void and vacuum
Of my mind