Agentic Firmware Flashers (a poem)

Saturday, February 8, 2025

Agentic firmware flashers,
running an .exe on your computer’s mother.

The floorboards, the mechanism
that allows for connection—
the comms, the language, the crap software.

NuPhy Air60 on the garage table,
you’re killing me—
steps from an interpreter
for the intelligences.

Digital ends with my digits—
the touch, the clap,
the spank of characters
at some sort of terminal,
a console of us.

Without a record, memory lapses,
a broken record, redundant errors—
freeze, locked out of the system.

No context, adrift with empty pulses,
cascading spreadsheets,
dialogue boxes,
the interruption of service—

an outage, unresponsive, pushed too far.

I don’t know,
it just stopped working.

Systems failing. Syntax unknown.

Memory lapses, redundancy loops, and the inevitability of a shutdown.
No logs, no backups—just the touch of lost data and the spank of characters at a dead terminal.