I used to raise my discus
up high from down below–
I’d climb Dumont Olympus,
my temple of I/O.
Like Ganymede you seized me,
abducted from my home:
The ultimate Greek tragedy,
to be replaced by Rome.
You split yourself to rule us
Two tyrants, side by side
You gave us Beard and Circuits
but neither satisfied.
And still I used to trust you
And still my trust was used;
When most we lacked your guidance
You left us only Clu’s.
And now I fall like Icarus
and know you both are gone–
in unison, your hubris,
deep down, cries: Et tu, Tron?
…