The city welcomes you with its LCD-signboards
and LED-lampposts. Here, milestones are marked
in micrometers and time counts in nanoseconds.
Cop Kirchoff stands at the junctions. Gauss roams
with a bell on the sidewalks. Drunkard electrons
diffuse through its alleys. Multi-limbed microchips
crawl on the roads.
Its citizens are governed by equations with politicos
of Greek and English alphabets. They talk in numerals,
words made of 1s and 0s.The slums are crowded
with querulous circuits; suburbs, colonized by gizmos.
Hospitals dot its every square centimeter area, where
gigahertz of processors are treated for neuralgia,
megabits of RAMs for amnesia.
Crammed with intelligentsia, the city is bound
to collapse one day, by Moore's law; nevertheless,
the lives on silica don't ever stop their weekend-
bacchanalia. You may join them on this island
if you can withstand the sound of microwaves
crashing on the sand: it is a billionth of an ant's
whisper. But remember,
once you are here, Man can at His will,
make you move, or stand still!