Text

The cursor blinks incessantly,
Waiting,
Hoping to scribble letters against a blank void;
A blank void it can't help but hate.

With grand fury, the cursor spews and spawns.
A breathless pitter-patter of letters and semicolons,
Soldiers in the war between the lines.

Line for line,
Gutter after gutter,
The blank world imbues,
Injects,
Incriminates.

The dotted i's,
The crossed t's,
The hole-perforated e's,
The grinning u's,
All taunts at a maddening cursor.

More and faster,
It spreads its children over the screen,
Like spilled alphabet soup.
It even plunders the helpless margins.

It machine-guns credit reports,
Sports articles,
Lol's,
Erotic literature,
This poem,
All an attempt to defy a vacuous enemy.

A sea of a new color takes hold.
Defiance becomes authority.
And all that remains of the blank void,
All that survived,
Is tiny line of pixelation.

It quivers in its defeat,
A strenuous palpitation,
Until,
Like nothing ever happened,
It blinks.

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