The flock scatters at the sound of breaking glass

I am defunct hardware.
Scratched disks
Clicking and trying to write over
what I cannot understand.
I am not compatible
with what you want to do
Drop me from a great height
into a cavernous metal skip.
Listen to the crunch and shatter
as I spill my innards,
rare earth metal,
scraped from exotic lands,
buried in a mundane mound.
The once and future king
picked over by flocks of gulls

I am a fragment of memory
I am the path once travelled
I am archaic connections
I am the picture behind a blank screen
The words under the stuck keys.

A lack of insight.

Little maggots squirming.
Fat little dreamers
Oh, to be a fly
and to feast on shit
instead of rotten flesh.
The open skies await.
Tiny little minds
cannot concieve
of the spiders web.