I fear the day when the monopolies
which govern my utilities –
the massive electricity distributor,
the internet service provider –
decide to take me off the map
How quickly the internet modem and router quietly float into oblivion
The computer nothing more than worthless chips
powered by the power that is no longer
I could no longer work from home or work at all
would not be able to call my boss to say, I quit
Or access the bank which holds my funds –
all numbers, meaningless in their meaning
Can a number on a screen that doesn’t light
Or a magnetic strip that can’t be read
buy a sandwich or pay for safe shelter?
Where do concepts of ownership go without digital proof?
I would head to the bank to withdraw cash along with all the neighbors
but the bank would be closed and the tills not working
For they too are disconnected from the electric grid
Instead I would hop into my car if I was fortunate to still have gas
that nobody scrappier than I has siphoned off
Gather a few good friends, cartons of water and vegetables
And the photos I’ve printed of the dear ones
I would head to a farm, a Buddhist one out by the beach,
one where the leafy greens grow abundant and delicious each season,
where the only bulbs are those of the leeks and onions,
who ask for soft gentle hands.
I would bring a writer’s notebook for the days off the farm,
days spent with hands in the soil, digging and playing,
growing a life from the land.
In such abundance, who would need the thrill of electricity
keeping us past dark? The sun is our light
the moon drifting through hazy clouds the glow
Sending us to sleep.
what is there to fear?
