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These daysthe letter's like a freeze frameAll the old waysget cluttered in the bric brac bones of the dayNow the book lightsThey flicker like the firefliesIn the long nightThe xerox of our sheets bound back for the dayWill we sit like old friendswhen the day of the book ends?Will we sit like old friendswhen the day of the book ends?Feel the spine bendthe scanners light the loose ends.When the letter sends,Our voices become flash, like matches to flameAt your bedsideYou're reaching for the outsideIn the long nightOur copyrights expire like fires in the rain.MCLUHAN: Instead of going out and buying a packaged book of which there have been five thousand copies printed, you will go to the telephone, describe your interests, your needs, your problems, . . . and they at once xerox, with the help of computers from the libraries of the world, all the latest material just for you personally, not as something to be put out on a bookshelf. They send you the package as a direct personal service. This is where weÕre heading under electronic information conditions. From Letras Mania