Programming all day on the commodore
64 outputs a mediocre score .

Such a step down from war-room machines
With tape reels, punch cards, and eerie green screens ;
The dot matrix printers hammering glyphs,
Zipping out reams :   my reluctance to shift

Toward digital homes, from analogue
Continuity—the move from prologue
Of gigantic boxes of vacuum tubes
To pocket phones replacing mainframe rooms .

The information age grows like kudzu :
Resistance futile, chips in all purviews .
From punch cards of babbage to turing-complete ;
To a world-wide net of nothing discrete .

Great !   information now, not later—
But look out for the terminator .