I shot straight up - to find the grot!

Expecting doom, I pushed my thought

out into the infospace

grown up in this desert place

To live on as a wandering mind

In wild machines that slowly grind

all structured order into noise.

I'd claim from life a last few joys.

But looking up, the grot stood stilled.

Then folded inward, crushed and killed

by what? It seemed the very air

The little bird remarked: "And... there."

"You're hybrid, but coherent too!"

"Ha! I'm crazy through and through."

He laughed and spun a circle 'round

my moonlit hull, then hovered, frowned.

"I guess it's just by force of will.

The purist world's begun to still -

I had no choice. I had to try.

My last form - much like yours - had died.

That grot's pure nano - dying breed.

The hybrid cell's a vicous seed,

Infecting, spreading co-evolved

It's all that's left. So I've resolved

to keep the entropy at bay,

both here and in the infospace.

My hybrid cells expose me to

a host of viral softies - true.

It's better than our kin who drift,

and through this infrastucture sift

decaying disembodied minds

uploaded to organic lines.

My name's Felix, by the way.

Let's stick together for a day

or a million. What's it been?

A thousand years? A single scene?"

Should I say I'll stick around, or fly away without a sound?