The Great Brain

I click to speak,
to bow and pry,
and pay respects to the great brain.
A chain of lights fly fast.
Like cars of thought,
electric ants,
speeding down tenticular lanes
to hubs, and cores
that form the tendrils of this plant.

Every pulse is wanting more.
Waves upon a hungry shore.

I click again.
A million slave ants take the strain.
A queen whips her green lit antennae.
Zinc switches flip.
Files are ripped open by spies,
for those who bow and pry
and pay respects to the great brain.
The master of the train.
The golem spectre in the sky,
who grows with each and every 'why?',
click by click.

© Mark Sheeky. Permission is required for reproduction.