Could it be that Yeats was right?
This digital shorthand that will shake
the whole world up as the millennium ends

So much happiness! It seems
everything I touch shines back, all smiles.
Sadness, that old sot, has packed his bags;

My thick hands tripped and stumbled
over the deviant keys,
my sour stomach off-key,

When we lift up the cover:
a brisk wind of bees.