My screen is a galaxy
of thousands and thousands of asteroids,
all in a row, white or black,
red or blue,
and I have created them myself.
Fiat Lux, Big Bang,
seven days, seven minutes, seven seconds
not seven times, but seventy-seven times
infinity
and a universe is born
before my eyes,
a universe in constant flux,
where sharp lines in space and time
do not exist.
No constraining law of thermodynamics.
The letters bubble indolently
to the surface,
they emerge from nothingness
and obediently return
to nothingness,
dissolving like ectoplasm.
It's an underwater symphony
of soft linkings and unlinkings,
a gelatinous dance of self-devouring moons,
like the big fish in the Yellow Submarine.
At a touch of my fingertip
the irreparable slides backward
toward a hungry word
and disappears into its maw
with a slurrrp,
then darkness.
If I don't stop,
the word swallows itself as well,
fattening on its own absence
like a Cheshire-cat
black hole.
CTRL+ALT+DEL=GOD