IT bro who was working on “our” computer
remotely changed the background theme to snow
and Christmas trees. And now I think I know
how early Christians faced their persecutors;
how Penelope stared down her raucous suitors;
how Russia faced the French before the snow;
how Norgay looked on Everest’s shrouded glow
and hauled his Kiwi up like some commuter—
I steeled myself and clicked through to the settings;
I trained my razor gaze upon display;
I changed it back. I was the antidote.
O birth and death and life and love’s begettings,
want of touch and food and warmth and pay—
I don’t ask for your praise; I do, your vote.