Interactive Media

My computer thinks it knows me,

better than I know myself.

Pretentious machine.

It stores my preferences in files

marked ARCHIVE,

and

READ ONLY.

And posts warnings

to avoid deletion,

or unfettered change.

Mechanized Tyrant.

To be free,

I go underground.

And lie

bald-faced,

or sin

by omission.

I won't admit,

I like chocolate chip,

no matter how many times

I'm asked.

If I change my mind,

and prefer

the desert to the beach,

I won't confess.

Take that motherboard.

(how aptly named.)

Plot that in your BIOS.

You don't

know me.