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I04 Keys Of Primo Stuff.

Updated on November 16, 2009

 ©-MFB III |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

104 keys of primo stuff
at my fingertips,
freshly screened, and ready
to interject my thoughts,
with a constant flow of
totally new awareness.

they allow me
to display with
a diction,
poetic dreams,
that come
with the highs
of inserting,
my favorite controls,
on line between the webs
of my fingered spasms,

mainlined with other
addicts who are driven to
select from,
thesauriest assortments
of brightly colored
choices, and allow
them entry
into their system.

each tab can move
the souls flights
over great spaces,
with a little
margin for error
and can shift minds
to focus on escape.

all sense of time
is deleted,
in the hours spent
loading the downs,
and the highs
of the dopey,
and the delightful,
into my network of
brain sin-napses.

they will find
my bones here,
some far day
in the distant future,
slumped over each
key- bored because
my soul was snared
by the web.

overdosed on spam
and eggheads,
starved for my lack of
with my skull cobwebbed
to the still lit monitor
and my vacant eyes
staring out the
windows of the world
that made me a
habitual peeping tom

they will bury me in
the recycle bin,
and erase all evidence
of the hard drive
that made me function.


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