picking up the peaces
of a shattered place and time
shards and jagged fragments just
so much space junk now
stalin vital ackworth
downshifting into the turn
spraying gravel across your
flower beds and leaving
ruts on the lawn
i had a friend once
who had a girl try to
drive a car through our
motel room one saturday
we were werkin seven twelves
on a shutdown up in carolina
but that was about money
not love
even though
no one believed it
except me and the girl
who both saw the money
under the six pack
on the passenger seat
change from a hundreds'worth'a
where she'd cashed her
check while givin a ride
to this pale boy from
down south who'd
wandered inta the
temple of caffeine and
she'd a kilt him sure
hadn't we found the money
while she was crying over
that spewing radiator of
that little yellow vega
for her broken car and
her jealous man and these
callous drunken laughing
strangers who finally
tried to make it better
but just couldn't, really
once the cops got there,
anyway
picking up peaces
of so many broken things
cataloging and documenting
photographing and recording
most of it is already gone forever
these tiny matrix xaptures pitiful
digital signal losses per quanta
exceeded acceptable levels even then
this is the coming of the end
the cumulative losses to the Life signal
will cause logarithmic degradation of
information carried by it
it's not sustainable
it's going to end
because it's a digital
approximation of the area under the curve
and that curve is what it's all about, man
you know what I mean, frend?
do ya feel me?
have you been there to see
where I'm comnin from?
Yeah, well, I don't know
- to say that is vital -
I don't even know you're here.
Can't prove it, anyway, can I?
