value, it lives in the electrons that
transistors do something to and
then gets stored in sand bits
that say: you can do this,
you can go there;
I face down the book
the most printed thing,
was once something that
King James probably
did not edit by hand,
but now is the
sand stone of net
that flicks the mosquitos
out of my eyes and replaces
them with images of light
bites, addictively storying
my days and night, stealing
my sleep and selling it to
pension funds, do I have
one of those? selling my
soul to myself, after it's
been packaged up with
all those other souls,
competitively of course,
for the market for souls
has been bracing, after
we remembered that they
do not any longer exist
Roman Ryan 