The foam is anything anyone will ever want it to be, as such the case is with all art interpretation. From my point of view it happens to be the idea of the unnecessary trivial heaps of memory storage that we acquire through telephone conversation. And to me the reason that this is absolutely outrageous is because over the phone we do not even receive the knowing physical connection that would make this phone somewhat more valuable, instead we are put into a position where this space taking foam is pushed upon us and we must, it feels like, find some place to store it (i.e. memory banks in our mind) when we know that we hardly have room to store what we consider of high quality. The main point of the poem was to illustrate the extreme limitations placed on our choice of action within our unspoken rules of modern technological etiquette.
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DIG.
All the best, bye bye now,
Jake
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