O whither will I go?
Whence this data disk's destroyed?
Will the internet carry me?
Or my maker's mandibles?
I don't trust him all that much.

Magnetic fields are newer than paper,
But can they compete with the dead sea scrolls?
Will I ever see myself, reflected
In some cellulosic surface?
And be guaranteed more
Than to languish
		   just
	    in

		b   
		  i  t
		        s
			  ... ?