Analog Man
by Ryan P. Kinney
I am the analog man
Do not give me your zeros and ones
Black and whites
I'll take a red two any day
Old fashioned old school
All chivalry and filth
That mars the scars
Customized dirt
Nothing is written in stone yet
(or in the dirt)
I wear these glasses,
This fraud,
As armor,
A filter
Against that which I am forced to see
I am not in or out
Black or white
I am live in TECHNICOLOR
Excited electrons
Ebbing and flowing
From the extremes of existence
I do not fit the pattern
Nor am I a predictable algorithm
Put your garbage in me
You will not get garbage out
I will turn and twist
Create while destroying
And shine your shit into my gold
I will thrive off of what is wrong with this world
And make your leavings better than you ever were