In a Sea of Lines

Each phrase and name,
Why not think on
Each brain that tried
To put some spin

On things? It’s fun
To browse a page,
Then a fat tome,
Then a bright screen,

Then back and forth,
Back and forth. See?
It’s all our text,
Our langue you tongue.

It’s you, who read,
Who wrote—you are
The ghosts, the moon
Fish in our waves.