Beatnik Righteous Networking

It’s like this baby-
everything you do on this machine
-that’s right cat, the one you’re reading from-
becomes  slick hums of electrons
sliding through gold wiring within
the fractal shine of technology divine…

Its righteous baby
when you read or when you write
when you click that round and wingless bat
or touch that keyboard like a lover
flying fingers beating time to rock sublime
the messages you make are split apart like isotopes
in a limitless spark of nuclear expanse...

Believe it baby
those broken bits of virtuality
are ordered by that silicon heart  you’ve got
-that's right cat, the CPU-
inside the confines of your magical machine
and every one is marked and tagged,
injected into seething veins of scintillating Net…

Its true baby
Every single path that every package rides
leads from or to the place where you reside
-that's right cat, your habitat-
and some of them get to and from
through satellites that glide
and watch and wait  and hide
above our little ball of rock and mud…

check it out baby
some of that phased light
used to bounce your virtual life
across the curve of near-earth space
occasionally escapes
and spreads through space
as a stream of blazing evidence
that intelligence lives here
a pointing arrow half a century wide,
a sphere the size of stellar systems
expanding at the slamming speed of light

So think about it baby
In each eternal second that
you click that wingless bat
-that’s right cat , your mouse-
another star discovers how
we whisper and shout,
love and hate,
screw, die, and debate
compose, construct, conduct,
make war and relate…

So hang tight Baby
here it comes on seeking streams
of interstellar winds
it won’t be long before some strange mind
on a different kind of world
orbiting a distant listening star
looks up into our messages,
peers  through the Righteous Net into our homes,
figures out its not alone
and writes a different kind of poem…

Righteous baby
Righteous.