Someone I once knew
Said that people from the 1800s
Were “simpler”
Implying they were stupid
That they didn’t have the machines
That we do now
For someone’s benefit
When they request a static solution
To a moving problem
And cry when tragedy strikes
And weep not from sadness
But from the feeling
That a machine encounters
When it short circuits
That immortal flesh is rotting
A nurse from the 1800s
Dreams from another plane
Of Men and Women
Who revel in their life
Knowing that
Death is approaching