On Publishing

Because their noise was not to be escaped,
He sketched and let flame flicker near the beast;
Which reared and galloped as the children gaped -
It kept them quiet, for a while at least.

In twenty thousand years the critics came,
Dug splinters of the children's children's bones,
And argued that he'd sketched to draw the game
Toward the hunters and their sharpened stones.

Later a blogger wrote that we had done
With dead-tree books, with paper and with pen;
A brief magnetic belch escaped the sun,
And no-one saw a word of him again.

Knapper Brandbord