Split second from a new
millennium, set to come
a cropper when computer

shut-downs tip the galaxy
into that boxed-in universe
of virtual reality -- the

journey's without foothold,
crickets mute among the
soundproofed grass, dodgy

messages of mugwumps, radicals
and doomsayers, a cuckold's
fumble before leaden-dirty

pictures on a floppy disk.
Who will unplug us, jump-
start us into daylight?
Send us rambling by vines
of purple, yellow, green, red
berries of the bittersweet,

the warm rich smell of
hazelnuts ripe in leafy cups.
I dawdle under sunflowers,

seed-nibbling with the birds,
far from that creepy side-
show, with the one I love.