Computers

Poetry

I luxuriate in a digital hammock,
rocking, not resting, wrestling
with the urge to explore
one more imaginary frontier.

My favorite game seduces
me into its world,
so unlike my own,
alien, surprising--dangerous.

Not that there are no challenges, 
no hurdles or mountains 
or monsters IRL. But the game 
adds sugar to my coffee and oatmeal.

I can beat the game, 
win all the loot, the accolades,
but life? Even the winners
share the same dusty fate.

Laundry.