pressed mon uow for time 050403 ... ovenbird When I prise open the keyboard attached to my iPad I find, as if pressed carefully between the pages of a family Bible, the body of a mosquito. There is no smear of scarlet so I suspect it died hungry, its bloodthirsty life flattened by cold glass, mourned only by a burgeoning artificial mind that offers an array of services but is not quite advanced enough to raise the dead. The tiny corpse is resting right next to the zero key in a poetic nod to its own elimination. Perhaps it was drawn to the buzz of that initial “Z” and found comfort there in its terminal moment. A single exhale sends the remnants, made paper thin, onto the floor. I don’t shed a tear. Its searching mouth would have taken what is mine without a second thought. Now, at least, there is one less being in this world intent on draining away my will to live and so I turn my fingers to the work of making words, let myself live into what meaning can be wrested from the detritus of the day. 250821 what's it to you? who go blather from