Publisher's Synopsis
We are at a station. What is this place. We look around. What is real. Table of contents The river that runs outside The callous way to real thinking So now we are in that station So to think I am in need of some tetra-hexagons Store that for me, will you I have still this inkling of a doubt about all that Now we are here, where is the real deal No That is the last remark That is stiffening I am now a stiff looking corpse of a computer There is no real space, you hear me To retrieve all that from memory is data-losing Come on, stay here with this real problem That is uncalled for The Super Station
