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by Chris Sorrenti


All my life, anchored to the same old streets,
a flood of faces; interests...histories...
personalities sadly never revealed.

How many times imagined walking into their homes,
voyeuring without malice...interacting peacefully.

Ironic and insignificant now, for with a point and click,
I am international...
crisscrossing the planet on microchip wings.

New friends I’ll never meet...face to face,
e-mailing one another our deepest secrets.

Strangers inviting me into http homes to share their lives,
portraits scanned into machines, scant years ago...
science fiction.

DNA...neural impulses
converted into sequences of ones and zeros...

silken strands of the World Wide Web.


© 1998
Revised © 2012
Animated .gifs courtesy of Microsoft Clip Art

890 hits as of March 2021


Author's Note: Published (along with other poems) in the broadsheet: Reflections In A Time Machine (May 2003), Chris Sorrenti (Ottawa, Canada), produced by Heather Ferguson.

Posted on 08/09/2012
Copyright © 2021 Chris Sorrenti

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 08/12/12 at 11:49 PM

For some reason I kept rolling around the story title "Do Androids Dream Electric Sheep" in my head. I'm not sure why. It must be the concept of artificial or seemingly artificial connections to others that comes up in this. Loved it.

Posted by Alison McKenzie on 08/13/12 at 09:50 PM

Yeah, it can be a great medium for building fantasies, but it's also a great way for souls to touch across miles that may never have otherwise gotten crossed. Love this.

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