poetry 101 rehab: file

creation starts small.
one file, first, on an old PC,
empty;
occupying
desktop space.

for posterity,
she proclaims,
and adds to it daily.

new jpeg’s uploaded,
pdf and doc.x
abound;
calls it immortality
in the
making.

artificial intelligence keeps track
when the human variety
cannot.

words pile up higher
and higher,
pictures crammed into rows of
thumbnails.

(it’s all later
melded into a
mess of
hyperlinks.
there’s no such thing
as
quality control)

and meanwhile
books remain blank;
albums remain empty;

the desk, clear.

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