I
Among twenty venture capitalists,
The only moving thing
Was the CEO of the dot-com.
II
I was of three minds,
Like an office complex
In which there are three dot-coms.
III
The dot-com whirled in the Internet World reception.
It was a small part of the pantomime.
IV
A sysadmin and an Apache server
Are one.
A sysadmin and an Apache server and a dot-com
Are one.
V
I do not know which to prefer,
The beauty of inflections
Or the beauty of innuendoes,
The dot-com financial report
Or just after.
VI
Designers filled the browser window
With Shockwave animations.
The shadow of the dot-com
Crossed it, to and fro.
The mood
Traced in the pixels
An indecipherable navigation.
VII
O thin men of NASDAQ,
Why do you imagine profitability?
Do you not see how the dot-com
Captures the eyeballs
Of the demographic about you?
VIII
I know readable content
And lucid, inescapable database access schemes;
But I know, too,
That the dot-com is involved
In what I know.
IX
When the dot-com went 404,
It marked the end
Of one of many Web rings.
X
At the sight of dot-coms
Flogged by sock puppets
Even the wisest investors
Become slightly childlike.
XI
He rode over Redmond
In a glass coach.
Once, a fear pierced him,
In that he mistook
The shadow of his operating platform
For dot-coms.
XII
The market is moving.
The dot-com must be flying.
XIII
It was evening all afternoon.
It was snowing
And it was going to snow.
The dot-com sat
In the bookmark list.
