Paper and Pixels

A Poem About Us Digital Ghosts

Old tales, new tales

paper and pixels.

Somewhere in a

technicolor dream

I found the shape

of today.

I found a world

of sleet and old

leaves walking

out of digital

mist. Ghosts

in the machine

or my life?


Hard to tell

and who even

cares? It all

comes apart at

the seams and

the end of text

threads.

Someone once

sang that I had

to “memorize

nine numbers and

deny I had a soul.”

That seems like

an underestimation

now, as we all fall

through the cracks

of our own algorithms.