french winds cross my own digital veldt
like arthur on the border of synaptic revolt
flowers bloom in tragic bits of retrograde
benchmark sufferers of this magic realm of magneto
numbers crunched and gelatinized into asynchronous parade
the lost tribes of babbling requests
truncated into cacophonic and twitching outputs
bent representations of enform addicts
crouched beneath the central processing units
waiting for arthur rimbaud to hit the enter key