Mild surprise
	and the echo of wanting linger
	in digital traces of cut umbilical cords.
	The PC malady which has given birth
	whispers, mouths unknown desires
	like the undulations of a stimulated glans
	flush with blood and promise.
	...
	And still I sit
	quietly caressed by electronic whines and cajolings
	from boxes yet to be silenced
	accusing stares from dark cyclopean eyes.