Answer, Click. Go ...

Dark star, who has known no
historical shape, but summons
the swooning sun and cold,
diminished Pluto,
as do the ghosts who roam
our napping houses
and see us through
mannequin eyes and pass
through us in digitized clouds
of moneyed seas

Born of the earth,
this failed and fabled space,
where darkened dreams
dare us through tubes
of pixilated light,
and friendless faces,
quartered bodies,
are our avatars
in the endless night ...

Ask me a question. Anything.
Play me with your games.
Answer me. Anything:
Demons, be loved!