22.1

Raw obsolescence
Digital poems
So new, so antiquatable
News that won’t stay
Watch the glyphs glitter
Their batteries dead.
Second thoughts wind the stair,
But life’s too short to reengineer
A worms climb.

22.2

Raw obsolescence
 digital poems
  so new, so antiquatable
   news that won’t stay
    watch the glyphs glitter
     their batteries dead.
      Second thoughts wind the stair,
       but life’s too short for reengineering,
                                              a worm’s climb.

22.3

Raw obsolescence
 digital poems
  so new, so antiquatable
   news that won’t stomp pews
    look! the glyphs glitter
     their batteries dead
      second thoughts wind the stair
       too short for reengineering,
                           a worm’s climb.

22.4

Raw obsolescence
 digital poems
  so new, so antiquatable
   news that won’t staunch pews
    Regard the glyphs’ glittering,
     their batteries dead.
      Second thoughts wind a stair
       too short,
                a worm’s climb.

22.5

Raw obsolescence
 digital poems
  so new, so antiquatable
   news that won’t staunch pews
    Regard the glyph glitter
     till the battery’s dead.
      Second thoughts wind
       a stair too short,
                     a worm’s climb.

22.6

Raw obsolescence
 digital poems
  so new, so antiquatable
   news that won’t staunch pews
    Regard the glyph glitter
     till the battery dies.
      Seconds wind
       a clock too slow,
                                                  a worm’s climb.

22.7

Raw obsolescence
 digital poems
  so new, so antiquatable
   news that won’t staunch pews
    Regard the glyph glitter
     till the battery dies.
      Hours wind
       a watch slow,
a worm’s climb.

22.8

Raw obsolescence
 digital poems
  so new, so antiquatable
   news that won’t staunch pews
    Regard the glyph glitter
     till the battery dies.
      Hours wind
       a watch low,
a worm climb

22.9

Raw obsolescence
 digital poems
  so new, so antiquatable
   news that won’t staunch pews
    Regard the glyph glitter
     till the battery dies.
      Hours wind
       a watch low,
a worm