As someone who once worked in archaeology and who reads and aspires
to write poetry I loved the quote from Howard Nelson below. Is the
Internet with all its modes of communication the modern equivalent of the
cave paintings of Lascaux? And attempt to say, see, I saw this, I thought
this, I said this, I shared this?
" A shaggy man is sitting alone late at night scratching at a sheet of paper,
and like the marks carved twenty thousand years ago on an antler
in a cave which say "someone is alive here"
these scratches are secret messages told to everyone.
" The dark threw its patches down upon me also....""
Reading " Crossing Brooklyn Ferry " on a