Yesterday a littledeath was recordedby the NSA routinelyeavesdropping on Yahootapping two IMerstyping their cyberfuckin real timefour geeks on dutybeneath Ft. Meadeat Spy Central gottheir rocks offdigitally manipulatingthe long data streamto match the maximumeffect of allthose nimble lovers’fingers flying acrossthe keyboardsthe ethereach othervirtuallyin ecstasy Karla Linn Merrifield has had 1000+ poemsContinue Reading

What a pair of words he uses:nerve strangle; he employsthem instead of the deadeningeuphemistic trio: big-screen TV; track the obvious vector of brainlessness;poison of epidemic proportionswith mercury digitized, disseminatedon YouTube; its vids-gone-viral transmit the gigabyte lie directly into humanneurons—oh that it were pixelatedarsenic and, at the very least, we couldfirstContinue Reading

O, dastardly techno deedI perpetrate this morning:hacking into Jimmy’s gmail.Actually, it’s a piece o’ cake.He labeled a desktop shortcut moses001.The Google logo is a giveaway.And from there – Bingo! – directlyto jameskarlmerri@ on the far sideof cyberspace. Of 642 messages, only a few dozenfind me browsing familiar territory,our common groundContinue Reading

A familiar boot screen queued up a process imperceptible to anyone other than Archi. Lines of code indicating failure of proper shutdown protocol flashed long enough to be logged within an internal database followed by a process that would monitor mechanics within the automated body, ensuring no structural damage. AContinue Reading

Load the splitting block with the seasoned birchThwack! Strikes true the hefty ax and mauls anewWipe the brow of salty sweat to free stinging obtrusionsIgnore the tears that intermix and stir the inner split Why did you choose to leave me to this harsh world alone?Why couldn’t you have toldContinue Reading

Charlie White remembered when all the trouble broke out. It had been his junior year at Tech, spring actually, although he barely knew it because he rarely left his second floor apartment cyber-cave on Washington Street about a mile away from the Institute. His carefully constructed enclosure, with wall-to-wall computerContinue Reading

Purveyor or surveyor, I’m in the business of lies. I ferret out secrets and shadows, uncover outrages and hidden motives. I pry open closets, shake out rugs, dig up graves, excavate lost souls, throw bodies on ice. The underground, I’ve got it covered, or uncovered when it comes right downContinue Reading