fire drill

all this paralysis
from computational theory
I never studied
but practice without
a license
inside closed walls
a short fat witch
cackling over my laptop
more clothes than I can wear
ghosts of books that flutter past
heavy and light
monuments and friezes
the games and sites
lighter, but just as permanent
as a coldly blinking router
watching as I galvanize
with no tearful goodbyes
for its wavering devotion
return in vague disappointment
to see everyones still here
and everythings still still