of a single word, returning pages
fished like coelacanths and pearls
from the server's architectured soul:
in the machine’s drowned palaces, among
the gates and lattices of silicon
its terms have cradled satellites and saints,
touched their coronas in the disc’s mosaic.
Here mathematics gropes in parley
with the unknown, its hands entwined
in filigrees of light, tilting the net
over the imagination’s edge
into the dark: and in its snarls are hung
the numbered stars, the deftly rising moon.
Meirion Jordan
Wasak!
* From the new pamphlet,
Search Engine: Poems from Tower Poetry 2006.
