Our ancestors trembled
like kittens in the shadows of tigers
when lightning flashed
across the roaring heavens,
and,
fearing the thunderbolt’s pounce,
they huddled in dank caves
to escape the salivary rains
that dripped upon the horizon
while the tigers prowled.
Now we chain
that fulgurous feline fury
with dainty wires
and bandwidth collars
so we can watch in idle hours
online kittens
prancing across tinkling keyboards,
fearing only
(in our complacency)
that the kitten might fall off
while taken too much with its prideful pace.
Yet,
the tigers still prowl,
their shadows always upon us,
threatening to strike us dead
with thunderbolt claws
or merely the modern boredom
that comes with an ambushing
blackout.