My monitor is frozen in late for something sun
that cuts through icy patterns; another day is begun
recalling all my losses while trying to ignore
the theme that keeps repeating from Call of Duty 4.
I tap tap off the volume, and stare out at the road
where cars and snowplows scroll by- a broken line of code
from some embedded program that executes our town:
the river and the co-op, this house that's falling down.
So tape over my window with dark green garbage bags.
Enclose my name in brackets- make HTML tags
to start and end, forever, above the wheezy breath
of cooling fans and hard drives, beyond the screens of death.
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