Born Digital

Despots and dames all flock to her cage
Rapping its bars, wailing, Open, Owl,
Your narrow gate! Northwest our passage
From our icy hearts into your fold;
Harbour us in your wings; don’t delay!

Challenging winter, Suez idles
Her canal; pharaohs bow; stars make
Obeisances, and planets fall down—
Aflutter, cotton-white mother lays
Down a set of suns; lighting, background
Performers, and sound techs mark the take:
Summoning Janet, Action! they all
Declaim. Flying, she unfolds her script,
Denying not what fame rhyme inflicts.