It’s twenty-first century and I still want to learn how to love

You wake up, splash

A cup of coffee into your stomach

And sleepy organs and weary veins

Install yourself in front of the laptop

And start to download my life from it

I write and I write to you

Every word and every breath

Are auto-checked

And Grammarly is always keen

On oxford commas

To remind me: in this life

I’m inefficient

At pauses

I miss the days when ink is used

To erode papers and iron my pains plain

I miss clean writings, clear signs

That navigate winter nights

With the heat from the center of palms

You used to have a stove in your

Palm prints; you just cannot remember

Who can recall rivers from oceans

And leaves from trees?

I google to learn my

Inabilities, dreams and decisions

And the important lessons on repeat:

I am a Human

In twenty-first century

With erratic stability to live in

I ask, repeatedly:

“Why did this happen?”

We still read books from nineteenth century

And consider them to be best to believe

On keyboards our fingerprints migrate

From an unknown song

To yet another unknown rhythm

Duplicating the journey from

Israel to Canaan myth

Yet still I believe in hand-written nostalgia

Still I want to learn, apply to, and graduate

From: love

In the twenty-first century

That I’m scheduled to live in

2021.10.5