>> Your vote is my sole reward
We turn back to Usenet,
With no self control,
It's as spare as sex,
If only I recall,
We had taken for granted
The illusion of meatspace,
As the years went by,
Cops couldn't keep the pace.
We are their delinquants,
With no mass appeal,
Turning bits to waves,
And this tide is real.
Our move is to cipher,
And to hyphen their failure,
Common as an ism,
And true justice to lure,
If my server could vote,
My weapon of choice,
That feeds my sampler,
And sports my voice.
It carries my torrents,
It streams my hope,
The reason I'll stay put,
Underneath I crawl.
It won't be dramatic,
Just a presidential order,
Turning music to static,
And strikes back to gopher.