Cryptic codes of exploratory interstices
of The Great Spider's Web,
pixellate on the screen, jump synapses;
the mouse wriggles, but is caught
entangled by leads and boredom,
the Spider gobbles the disabled mouse.
Enabled, tails of cursors stalk pages
of planetary gobbledegook;
electric junk-food, battery-powered boobs,
news and thongs, sport and games,
a luminescence too bright,
electric letters of invitation.
A past girl poses a hello,
her words, unwavering lines
like the vocals of her box.
But 'Come' and trace my face
across the subatomic stratus
of the wondrous LCD, says she.
My space, her space, her life,
her face suddenly remembered
as a new hologrammatic screen
invents itself, imitating memories;
realisation sparking that that face
is the same, that girl is the same.
Debased in space as attainable
particles, senses of magic moods me
numb; she's downloadable.
It's everyone's space; such a reactive
rape of treasured rememberings
violates my virulent program.