ET ORIGO

My tablet offers a font that imitates

Brushstrokes. Over time, a virtual soul

Has built itself to guide the brush.

The Seven Gods of Calligraphy are meeting

To determine its status. Meanwhile,

It amuses itself by renaming my files.

SITUATION

The new font on the computer

Lacks serifs; despises poetry

Wants above all to be clear.

That tree outside is moving

To a breeze only it feels.

The crows, disgusted,

Move to the telephone poles.

The baby knows the reason for books

Is to be pulled off shelves.

The reason for me

Is to put them back again.