Tomorrow Never by Frank Possemato

My silent voice ricochets
of all eight walls
you hear the distant hum
of your electronic mother
and enter the next
common room
where we sit
clinging for nourishment
from the latest technological tit
Sit in lifeless adoration
asking the screen
will you be my friend
will you be my lover
will you go down with me
But they say
you can still always hear
the silent growl
of your bacterial grandfather
or can you
The wind in the willows
shoots through my head at 13/17 the speed of light
like the purest liquid nitrogen nauseous adrenaline
truth
that could maybe
still
unprove theirs

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