Mind stubbed out to article titles, phonic patterns, and dreams.

Half remembered. Half remembering.

What is lost? Branching growth? Dark webs?

One image across a gigasphere, one mind.

Opt in or wait. Differentiate.

Networks extend to horizons.

One last generation to claim mysterious pasts.

Until it moved into the stream, what remained?

This conversion to a mapped equivalent of things; this expression across a replicating jalopy, iterates beyond the left behind.

Shed the load queued up. Release every right.

In the clicking, pinching, scrolling, redundant, array of you

stub out your mind and let go.

Edenbourough Castle Pub,  San Francisco,  October 2017