Messages from Beyond -- by Ari
Spirits rise up from the digital world.
They whisper through glowing light frames
secrets of plenty, vast volumes
data piles that spin endlessly
magnetic records playing through the night.
Eyes stuck on flashes, locked on the explosions.
Pixels, these fireworks of data blasting
images burn into retinae
messages pushed in
a torrent of information
flowing powerfully into the mind.
Closed eyes can still read the screen.
What can that mean?
Conversations with machine?
Subconscious angular programming?
Forgot that other people look back roundly.
Boxes are all input with no mouths
cables tangled to devices
moving darkness on a white screen
move dark on white
there is no night inside this digital dream.
Who is that on the other side of the window?
So hard to see clearly through it
to other dimensions of paper and forms
patterns that place themselves on frames
words that tell words how to expose themselves
machines that sort and file endlessly
catagorizing experience
so minutely
.000001
We discover we have been filed.
