Poetry

Alejandro Marcos

By

Elizabeth Alford

Update Your Anti-Virus

after Elizabeth Alexander’s “Autumn Passage”

On buffering, which is hell.

On the ad that never closes,

the links within the ad.

On the spectacular thrusting bodies—

with hair, without it.

On the purpose of hair itself.

On the glittering porn stars:

with makeup, always;

enhanced with silicone.

The maximum on credit.

On the worms, trojans, viruses, other

implanted keyloggers

attacking your system.

Other things much larger: people

who steal identities—

hackers who keep sleepless vigil,

computer-brilliant. Their triumphs

over tech that operates

even as it betrays us. Libido

that can no longer rise to occasion,

but nonetheless tries—

weakened and losing magnificence,

as it wanes, as it shrinks,

and you turn to something else.

Full and Bored

I am Full          from a five-course dinner

And Bored       with comments like “You could be thinner,”

And Entirely    fed up with: “You’re getting

Too Fat            you know.” The good ol’ status quo—

I am Full          of fat; therefore, a black hole. The Inverse Law

Of Food           is crushing. I have been compliant

And Entirely    too quiet, but I am not

Too Tired         to stand up and fight back.

I am Full          of dreams, waiting to be imagined

And Tired        of walking on treadmills

And Entirely    done with one-size-fits-none,

Too Bored       to stand still, going nowhere.

Elizabeth Alford

Elizabeth Alford is a poet living in Hayward, California who co-hosts the Berkeley reading group Poetry Express. Her work has recently appeared at Silver Birch Press and Failed Haiku, and is forthcoming at The Bamboo Hut, Modern Haiku, Contemporary Haibun Online, and Poetry Super Highway. Visit her Facebook page.