Three things that are not technology.

So first of all: the knight in chess.
For all that costly artistry,
I can’t respect a beast
who moves in such a tortured path.

Then second worst: the blade. A wedge is such
a crude machine. You mean to say
our best and brightest minds can do
no better than the axe that cleaves
the heads from forlorn sinner-saints?

And least of these: esteem, that gilded light,
the line between the wheat and chaff,
skin and guts, that wispy circle keeping inside in
and outside out.
But I would never join a club
that builds its members walls.

I flip the table,
blunt the sword,
and cut the lights.
We’re only equal in the dark.