the narrative is the space:

there will be chronic neck & finger
cramps which result in shoulders curling in
internal shapes designed for devils
and devolution beings designed to fit in the space.

the narrative is the space:
.....legs twist into comfort scanned &
printed zones
cramped by borders, by
tables.
printed leaves/sheaves break the
screen's hold...

no, no, you can't break out of the screen; it - is - all

rampant rites of
passage....square peggings pretend
the real.... foam encasings render
oblong shaped parts designed to
offer a type of life.....
oblong life. life oozing fractal patterns, invisible patterns exploding deep
within the machine.

deep.

you dwell within startling circuits. you artificial intelligences, 
artificial beauty's stench packed into an
electronic load, wandering through
the subjective strains
transmutations...revelations...mutes
revel in both......

hiccup and you bleed into a new megabyte.

darwinian existence demands codes, demands rewrites &
wrongs, spouting a stream of zero &
oned obscenities
picture & pictorially perfect, demands narratives, infinite narratives, demands

the space.

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