Today’s local rag tells the story
of a time soon to come
when itself will be telling no more.
All paper and film, any message
you hold in your hand, breathe upon
or smell will be gone.
Eclipsed, shall we say, made past
by a digital signal much cleaner,
lighter, orderly, fast.
The past will take up much less room.
Old scenes doomed in attics to rot on a reel
may achieve everlasting digital life. Then
what about gandma who said
when she thought the country was going to pot:
“I’m glad I am on my way out..”…..
Will she now have no choice but despair,
forever to live in our pixils,
be judged by those who weren’t there?
Be seen on demand, in a blink,
an eternal accessible object…
Will this be heaven, you think?