Poetry in Times of Bullshit Jobs

On my screen is a translation of European data protection law.

On my ears is Beethoven’s seventh. A major.

I listen to one of the greatest geniuses of our modernity.
My fingers are moving with every measure.

The vacuity of the language I observe, as it emerges on my screen
suddenly enables me to see the sacred
and unrelenting beauty of a tortured mind’s visionary breadth

Embedded in my cocoon of emptiness, I can glimpse
briefly, the wonder and irreducible joy of being in time
like the shadows of a butterfly dancing on your skin
as we are ourselves admitted to the sublime:

Access is everything.
so must we protect the untouchable beauty
by layer upon layer
of European data protection law translations?

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