Madam, how are you liking this play?
The lady doth protest too much, methinks.
Oh, but she’ll keep her word.
Have you heard the argument? Is there no offense in ’t?
No, no, they do but jest. Poison in jest. No offense i’ th’ world.
What do you call the play?
Who makes the minimum wage?
- More than half → Women
- More than half → Work full time
- Average age → 35
Awake! You ask to know me, shall I say,
Data Miner, before today. Ok?!
For ten decades I’m chained to desk and wage.
Not analog, but digital my trade.
Tap, ta-tap, ta-tap and clickity clack
Slave away for clients, unsavory.
Cracking the whip, the man would see my day,
‘Round the clock, my patience for bravery.
Didn’t kill me. Stronger today. Cliches…
That Fateful day, noticed client stood straight
like I tuned a receiver, clarity.
Crystalline communication, actuate.
Perfect frequency, to me, rarity.
Was it NTSC? Telegraphy?
The English is all that I could perceive.
For what is language? Spanish. Germanic.
Its all the same when you speak eye to eye.
One false step and this can all go awry
Focus! Focus! Stop thinking and apply.
Information systems, a fickle friend
The FCC number one enemy.
Split Frequencies, my first discovery
Data Mining, the founder of my dreams
But oh, it cannot be. Perception see,
Is not yours to keep. For thoughts on contract
Are easily lifted by bosses greed.
Pay no mind, close your eyes, and think again.
Frequency Genesis, the gold geyser;
They know my name, they’ve seen my incisor.
Bandwidth, information to get high with.
E =MC Squared, Random access,
For Christ’s sake, jeez, it’s the quantum axis.
Information Proliferation Age.
Have you got instruction? Type at the prompt,
For the client has said we can engage.
Transhuman: We process the Moore of FLOPS
The thought is all yours, no complicity
Do It now, Execute Epiphany.
Her love astounds just like the moon moves waves.
The sun has kissed the skin about her face.
Her eyes as dark just like the unlit caves,
but soul goes deep beyond cavernous space.
Our thoughts create the space that we shall live.
Bubbles in time we float on countless word.
Pearl white, if ever a lie, I forgive.
Thin membrane in time, our world undisturbed.
Weekday has come? Oh, how I will decay!
Without your torch, our love won’t radiate.
For you have gone and alas, I must pray.
Confess, five days too long, must see soul mate.
I have survived the wait I’m owed your love.
Whispers I hear from soft angel above.
Sycophant Lady de Bourgh
you instruct literature so well.
Condescending above everyone
mind towering in a cell.
Instructor so alarming
like clanging ten bells.
Teaching me lore?
Teach me to behave?
I’ll teach you to tell
me to “SHUTUP!”
Must be sad in your hell.
Literature through periods,
the red sea must swell
permanently in your cells.
Is it that time of the month? February?
Your demeanor foretells.
Victorian? No one can tell,
For you educate none
and belittle exuberantly well.
Instead of books
that you portray to educate,
you should educate yourself.
"Nevermore!", she yells.
Then, picks her nose, cackles,
wraps her scarf about herself,
grabs her broom and hightails.