Sarah Sarai’s poems have been published in Ascent, Boston Review, Threepenny Review, Minnesota Review, Yew, Thrush, The Wallace Stevens Journal, Posit, Painted Bride Quarterly (forthcoming), and others. Her collection, The Future Is Happy, was published by BlazeVOX. She is a
contributing editor at The Writing Disorder, also writes fiction, works as an editor, and lives in New York.
We waited for our laptops to recognize our sovereignty.
Were comforted by a lavender mist on our desktops.
We reflected on “Desktop.”
Trying to be retrospectively insightful we remembered
Our teens. We stained our desk maple.
Might not have been maple.
We were okay with that.
Caffeine deep-muscled our nerves though nerves
Are not what you’d call muscular.
We noticed our walk-to-work shoes were silver.
Our at-work shoes slept in their file drawer.
Slatterns. We wondered about co-workers’
Bank accounts and sex lives.
We resisted the call of the cat video.
Checked The Guardian online.
No news is good news.
Work came our way. Editing and annotation.
Late afternoon was slower than the five turtles on Sunday.
They posed as Nobility for a sculptor we made up.
We hoped god was having a good day.
And that she’d push us to go out and find a woman.
We suggested a few billion lives be made easier.
Her attention was diverted.
She liked to juggle stars to amuse a goddess
A galaxy over. We closed our programs and
Clicked Shut Down. We suspected lady god
Wanted to do that. To force the machine off.
Be all about juggling. We gave her a thumbs-up,
Hoping to gain her approval.
We reconciled ourselves to being unnoticed.
Decided it didn’t matter.
We knew how to turn on our computer.