TRUELYNODIAL FORUMAWESOME

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The Listeners: AN URBAN MYTH




‘IS there anybody there?’ said the old timer,
Typing on his ancient keyboard;
And his cusor in the silence blinked on the screen,
But no new message was there to be seen:
And a pop-up leapt into the window,
Above the Old Timer's head:
And he smote upon the keys a second time;
‘Is there anybody there?’ he said:
But no one replied to the Traveller;
No dials on the cyberspace mail,
Sent over and answered his cries,
Where he sat perplex’d and pale:
But only a band of phantom watchers,
Cyber spooks that dwelt around the inbox then,
Stood looking in the quiet of the moonlight,
To that message from the e-mail world of men:
Awaiting the networked packages,
From the dusty router in the hall,
Hearkening in an air stirr’d and shaken
By the lonely Old Timer’s call:
And he felt in his heart their strangeness,
Their silence answering his cry,
While his clock ticked away in the corner,
He noted the lack of reply:
For he suddenly smote on the keys, even
Harder, and lifted his head:—
’Tell them I sent, and no one answer’d,
’That I posted to the forum,’ he said:
Never the least stir made the Nodials,
Though every word of mine,
Fell echoing through the still windows,
From the only man left online:

ANON