Hello Poetry
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#servers
Hey someone, in charge, I’m talking to you across a vast ocean of errors numbered 502. Please, put a quarter in the little slot that dispenses the feed, so, the little gray squirrel gets what he needs, to spin the little aluminum wheel that generates the Susie-Bake oven light which facilitates the solar cells powering the 1984 Tandy desktop, that’s the Hello Poetry server - it’s ground to a stop. We love that squirrel, and if we sound cloying, it’s because we find the constant 502 errors annoying.
0
Nov 2, 2022
Nov 2, 2022 at 9:19 PM UTC
squirrely 502s
i'm done with these machines. they didn't do anything for me. i could always hear them screaming, but it never mattered to me. i'm wiping all the servers, they won't go on any further. i'll pull out all the wires... burn it all in a fire. i'll take a hammer to them all knock them over, let them fall. i won't bother to re-write their codes... i'll cut off access to their nodes. i'll let them all fall apart. truthfully, i know i broke her heart.
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Nov 13, 2018
Nov 13, 2018 at 12:14 PM UTC
machines
There's whole clouds of it, it rains in trickles and monsoons. Rivulets of potential across a hand on VHS, DVD, Blu-ray, streaming now! Roiling in your drying eyes, pouring through the dragnet. The whispering stacks bathe in the flood; their subjects' tributaries building an ever deeper ocean.
0
May 9, 2018
May 9, 2018 at 11:46 AM UTC
Lightblood