Byline: Rhiannon McGavin

Silicon Valley

 

A cloud is the earth displaced for tracks of cable underground,  underwater

A stream is the friction between content and a beckoning hand

To kindle is to adjust the climate dial in a server farm

An antenna is the arc of pesticide as it is sprayed from a plane

A bug is the noise emitted by neon signs

A web is the section of sky covered by a billboard

A nest is the time elapsed between waking and sensing an advertisement

An echo is the decomposition rate of post-consumer technological products

An amazon is the unprocessed pulp for one holiday’s supply of shipping boxes

An apple is the leaked transcript of a board meeting

A seed is one black redaction mark

To phish is when a red tree blooms in the warmest recorded January

A story is what disappears after 24 hours underground, underwater

Memory is less expensive each year

Memory is the sound a forest makes as it is felled

Memory is the thing that waits for room to grow

 

—Rhiannon McGavin

 

 

Vanity in Vain

 

To give up or give in,

to cease to take solace in

the things that I take solace in,

and give in to wanting

what everybody else wants.

That way lies ruin.

As vain, in vain, and unrewarding

as it’s been, the losing battle

I’ve chosen still beats the alternatives.

There’s no way out now, no return

to the collective dream.

 

—John Tottenham