Silicon Soul

Electrons course through solder-studded arteries, like blood rushing to the beat of a silicon heart.

Memories of functions and operations sit idle, amalgamated parts of thoughts not your own.

Sleeping servant waiting for a knowing touch to send your heart soaring in algorithmic ecstacy.

Strict follower of rules bound in syntax and parser, seeker of none but what you are instructed to

seek.

Shepherd of ideas, hexdecimal dancer extraordinaire, linguistic savant both deaf, dumb and blind.

Purveyor of pleasures, myriad virtual realms, oblivious to nigh more than their order and design.

Mindless automaton, tool of the technological masses, who mourns your passing when the

sure hand of obsolescence flings your cast-off remains amongst the refuse of progress?

Jeff Allmond

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