I’ll be doing today tomorrow — 
I’m individual no. 1. “An idiot,” handlers whisper.   
 
I’ll read my email soon  
because my fans deserve it. 
 
The power brokers’ search had no results.  
Their time is split into categories of use for my work and for the sinister about-face of a system download added to my labor.  
A life sentence for causing a ruckus.  
Call me when you’re ready.