............as a punishment for not attending our poetry group this week.
14 lines in detention.
(with no rhyme or reason)
Minimising assymptotically, the window
hears the rush of the year beneath
and erratic logic betrays the trust
imbued in the snow-covered bird
sitting on the right hand of the deity.
To our presence given over, dangerously,
the sodium light glares through
the frosted glass pane while the mouse
endlessly consumes its block of cheese.
Art Thou, O Data safely tucked away
within the bowels of rotational stores
counted backwards and checksummed
in thy profound and infinite wisdom
wherein the answer is a cyclical prime?
Roger Collett.
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