Electronic Ink
I wrote a virtual sonnet for you
almost every day for a year.
01001
01110
one began, hopefully.
Three hundred failures later
I will try haiku tomorrow.
I will HTML you,
paste fairy wallpaper in gigashades of colour,
rework pixels,
smooth the stairstepped images,
add transparency
before rendering:
Oh, Ill escape,
return,
control,
restore,
delete,
until I can send you ancient messages
in an uncompressed,
worldwide,
broadband, and
non-encrypted
stream
of ones and nothings
instantly.
cas(1998)