Read a poem by Scott Latimore that uses the familiar database tool, MySQL, as its primary metaphor.
MySQL
in so to back-link this,
when you have remembering
but to have all columns come up short.
what would that be like?
each little, designed cell empty
and serving up nothing but pages
with snow white good and just design
no one can see, a landscape of.
the borders there are beautiful,
and might have in so much detail
some, well, thing still there
in so much potential.
some new service started
and available and blind as sheep.
i want to go there,
where that cell is empty
and ready for me,
and the bricks i stole
from William’s parking lot
weigh in my trunk, and
i also kept Steven’s sun
like a secret,
only to me.
let these cells be
confusing at best
and at the worst
rules for the body i am in.
and at the worst Steven’s sun
and at the best bricks
of an old house
i couldn’t inhabit anymore
no matter how many entries
i made into
beautiful gray lines
and squares.