Datatonia

There’s a natural force I’ve heard much about.

It’s in the walls, it’s on the streets, and up in the clouds,

Catching me every time I turn around.

I can’t escape,

I have to know.

What is in those tiny black boxes

That tugs on my soul?

A child, screaming,

Rippling space and time.

I want to wipe away the tears and say I understand

And lift it to the sky.

I think I’ll try...

To dream the digital dream,

To dance the analog dance,

To electrify my corduroy pants,

To let this manic-depressive child oscillate across the atmosphere.

And soon it will come here, perhaps shy-away,

But then draw near.

For I am building it a castle

Too small for even a mouse, this house

Will be greater than clouds or wires,

Synapses firing charges of the light brigade,

Parading with the passions

In my mind, it finds

Ideas -- this child will shine.

This note from me is a plea

To someone out there with the power

To let me be what I want to be.

So consider this not lightly,

I want this more than slightly,

For my head to see.

Sincerely,

H. Tyler Amick