For months I manage to defer updating my
computer to relentless Windows 10, but then
one random morning nothing I can think to try
will interrupt an automated process. When
percentages show Microsoft’s all done, I’m left
to reconfigure browsers just to access sites
long designated favorites. Totally bereft
of choice throughout the whole ordeal, I feel my rights
have been abridged, if violated is too strong
a term. How much control must I surrender to
such forces just to get online? Is it so wrong
of me to be reluctant to accept what’s new?
With most change, doesn’t timing matter? Rote words sting
as up pops, “I’m Cortana. Ask me anything.”
If you have any comments on this poem, Jane Blanchard
would be pleased to hear from you.