flying in and out of real life
some kind of psychic link with the interface
the lines between computer and human blur
hands that don’t leave home row
shift into the computer
until I am attached at the wrists
the typewriter eating William S. Burroughs
has nothing on me because
I am eating the computer, my eyeballs
sink into the monitor like drops into water
the surface tension pulls the rest of my head after
CTR-W, CTR-W, CTR-W, but it won’t close
I can’t ESCAPE, CTR-ALT-DEL does nothing,
but I’m able to CTR-C, ALT-TAB, CTR-V myself
into the next document
noting the timestamp here is much later
and there is no bloated Word markup
marching at me from the margins
I’ve CTR-S’d myself,
for the moment at least, and I
breath a comma of relief