A flash in the pantheon, a luminous and flickering waste,
Words upon images upon words, scrolling through white noise and chatter,
Quills plucked from the Golden Goose scrawl across the ether without end or meaning.
Quivering arrows that point to bright new futures,
Stuttering somewhere, on the edge of something real,
Always connected, followers and friends.
The pitter-patter of tiny feats, another paradigm twists,
An explorer in this stolid slumber, the plentitude of the void.
Glue-eyed and hum-brained, creaked and contorted, cracked and distorted,
On the cusp of overwhelming indifference. I blink.
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