Mail Call

greetings become brief
bursts of binary
short stuccato thoughts shorter
and shorter
till they are not worth the screen
they are typed on.

fast food for thought
travelling across a space
that is not there
nor here
so fast too fast way too fast
for me or you or anyone

excuse me i must go i have
email to reply
i have people i must meet
whom i have never met
no faces no places just
him@wherever.out.there.

at least i know i am alive
i am one
i am zero|
i have new mail.

by Lee Kin Mun
aka mr brown
(Copyright 1997)