It feels so arbitrary - time
Which wanders where it wants to go -
Not less so than others - rhyme
And all its friends that - to and fro -
Wander on the endless page
That is no page at all, but bits
Of electronic hot white rage
Enslaved to never call it quits.
This digital enslavement makes
The arbitrariness complete
And if, by miracle, it breaks
Into a million small discrete
Bits and bytes, then I will be
Eternal arbitrarily.
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