Big Bang research

I know them by their poems,
attachments that can't be read.

"It's just finished. Not really.
Is that last line way too much?"

Then I'm tap tapping,
saying, "Visits

are my favourite poems.
Come and stay… the week?"

Letters arrive, less.
Could paper be made from leaves?

Autumn's over. We're binary
but we're not digits -

I hear attachments, attachments
are an accident

of big bang research.
The upgrade (you know

this new upgrade?) -
the upgrade

will read everything.

"Big Bang research", from Lucky Day, Carcanet, 2005

This is an Informationist poem

All texts unless otherwise stated © Richard Price