Addicted, normal’s what we seek.
Though what is “normal” no one knows.
Is there a normal anyway?
And if a normal does exist,
Whose normal is it anyway?
Whose context? When? How long at that?
A day? A year? A century?
In waiting rooms in hospitals,
I see no family lament
The loss of “normal” days of past:
When “surgery” was sawing bones,
When “medicine” was numbing pain.
When “patient” was who waited death.
In sitting halls, on WiFi calls,
I hear no worker reminisce
The good old “normal” working days:
When “spreadsheet” was a giant page.
When “decks” were made of cardboard “slides”.
When “CC” came in carbon blue.
In kitchens with appliances,
In Zoom rooms teaching sciences,
You catch my drift now, do you not?
“Disruption in technology.”
“Disruption in the industry.”
“Disruption in behaviour.”
Applauded and celebrated.
Awarded, ranked, and invested.
And now “disruption” makes you sigh?
Go wash your hands before you cry.