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No part of this poetry should be reproduced in any form without written consent from the author, Joe DiMino, who retains all rights: contact


"Thought He Could Hide" (by Joe DiMino)


He thought he could hide—
Snip and separate
Unwanted pieces away;
Splice together
An epic celluloid life
He later would gift
To the academy;

He wanted to mend
As if never
Carelessly passing to page—
But digital
Had come of age;
And word pictures
He drew
So carelessly
With youthful smugness
And defiance
Where now
Some server somewhere
Refusing to let him edit;
It was that demon Internet
He blamed—
Ever faster;
Reaching around the globe
And perhaps to Mars—
He cursed
The satellites—
The Rover storing his
Blunders in Bytes
Lumped into Gigs with other
Worthless production
And coded—Recycle Bin…but none of it
Could ever entirely be erased;

He saw pixels
In dreams—
Microscopic electronic-scavengers,
Creeping darkly under his bedroom door—
Racing across the carpet
And under the sheets
To attach,
Growing leech size
On his testicles;

Indeed, they behaved self-righteous—
Their own apparent

If one could only blot
Such damn spots out—
Set on fire
Like the old records
Of film and vinyl,
To watch our trash
Rise as smoke
Into the air
Forgotten with time;
But this disciple—
An electronic devil
Will go on forever—

He now knew
He should have never published
Till all the I-s had been dotted—
No participle left dangling—
All punctuation
In logical agreement;
Typos gone
With poorly conceived
But his work was on its way,
Perhaps light-years out in front
Of him;
He as trite
Across galaxies....

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