Old paper books yellow and crumble,
old diskettes are erased by stray magnetic fields.
Poetic verses jumble into mumble,
a learned treatise no more wisdom yields.
A singing voice gives out with age,
a loss of money impairs the sage.

Our life-form patters are much better preserved
in genetic language with an alphabet so sparse.
No precise copies, yet the variations served
the progress seen in forms new, diverse.
Could words, mind’s children, but learn Nature’s trick,
survive decay of medium/body, emerge renewed and slick.

Note in the text edition of this volume: This record was promptly lost from the diskette. I have no idea where it went. It’s extinct except for this specimen and its Xerox clones.