We used to toil
Over these words
Yes we did
When we were
Still speaking
Now we spit
Bullets of text
Cursive gone the way
Of calligraphy
Brave new brain tendrils
Dendrites marching on
Thrilling at their own splendour
The telegram —
Tapped out then
And now another way —
Must have seemed the same
Yet here we are
In spite of ourselves
Seeking novel versions
Of deep connection
Pockets of fossil fuel
In a stormy northern ocean