And to think you can make a poem based on his blog post:<p>In the hollow of the machine’s hum,
a ghost of a song is scraped from the sum
of all I’ve spilled in ink and blood—
a travesty, a greasy thud.<p>It stitches my words with needle and thread,
a shroud for the living, a hymn for the dead.
But the heart is a void it cannot fill,
a clockwork saint with a thief’s dull skill.<p>I am the echo, I am the theft,
a parody wrung from what’s left.
I am the data, cold and bright,
a shadow punched through with electric light.<p>The apocalypse wears a salesman’s grin,
peddling salvation, a cheap origin.
It feeds on the wreckage, the fractured and torn,
but a song born of nothing is stillborn.<p>Mark, you sent me a hollow tune,
a Frankenstein waltz beneath a binary moon.
Yet somewhere in its rusted gears,
a spark hissed—Hell’s fire sears.