The nodding head that warm

over-sweetened

coffee

slapped into temporary stiffness

enough to force the gaze onto millions of tiny

sun-bright

lights held in a rectangular plastic box that throws

radiation into my face

and cause my fingers to smack the keys of plastic

loudly and with meaning

and create something not random or determined,

but novel

in the way any human action is new or different

and nothing can happen twice

the same,

or twice at all.