Dot Matrix - Poem

Contemporary Review, Oct, 2000 by Liam Heaney

I spawn the words onto the page,

Blurb and blob amassed as one,

Clumped and combined,

Intermeshed and intertwined,

Hard to manoeuvre and difficult to manipulate,

Yet each black dot primed with possibility,

Loaded with the potential to generate.

I await expectantly for the words to hatch,

To break free from the thick gelatinous mass.

Days, weeks, months pass;

Eventually each word begins to develop,

To grow appendages, to feed off other words,

To change direction, to extend its range.

A metamorphosis comes about and

A distinctive shape emerges.

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The newly evolved form is now amphibious.