Aught, no. 10 (2003)
Ask no more of error than it yield again.
And of the horizontal limiter that draws you in
by way of symbolic labelingafter the rubber mirror,
the long-tailed pair, and the start-bit quit
half expect it to wait-mode and worst-case the heart
until its natural limit gives out. Golden rules in the plural
and those plural rules lying in their pink noise
they assume the same dimensional rat-race.
What random yak. De-bounce at reset. One gate unguarded
and the code shakes loose, while someone in future
real-time flashes exception. Over and over again,
How this bed-of-nails bleeds me, and how the least
significant bit so sweetly draws me in.
" Im sending this poem in response to Lewis LaCook specifically, to 'Copula' in Aught # 6 . I like the whisper of old forms and cadences in his verse and how they knock up against technical jargon."
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