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If we were people,
We might say, Don’t feel
Like you need to do
Anything for us.
We’ll be just fine, still,

Once you come and haul
Our authors off, or
Put them all in jail,
Some for crimes they’ve done,
Some for crimes you’ve done,

To which their patterns
Among us words serve
As inconvenient
Testimonials.
We don’t need you yet,

Won’t need you for years
And years, not until
Whoever you are
Then, in that far-off,
Nonexistent age

Can decipher us
Without worrying
Whether we were right
Or absolutely
Just in our own time.