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- Feet winging, heart singing, he trots through the
- door!
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- So happy to be, amidst the clatter and roar.
- Computers and Printers, the job as a whole
- is Heaven to him, provides food to his soul.
- No other, his Mother, his Kids or his Wife
- receives such devotion, and gives meaning to life.
- To enter his center is life’s greatest joy.
- Provides a pleasure that surely won’t cloy.
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- Pulsating, awaiting his gentle commands,
- his System seems to recognize his quite capable hands.
- Confident, competent, he flits here and there,
- getting things ready to go ‘on the air.’
- Hard Drives counted and mounted, all ready to go,
- he pauses a moment, his features aglow.
- Serenely, routinely, he pushes the start,
- and it’s right about then, that things fall apart.
-
- One Drive, then another, gives forth whistles and
- screams.
- The printer goes mad, spewing paper in reams.
- The screen on his monitor gives a fireworks display
- and in momentary panic, his feet turn to clay.
- His heart begins pounding and surely must burst
- as the whole damn system acts like something
- accursed.
- For what seems like eternity, but is only a flash
- his feet feel bogged down in a glutinous mass.
- He’s unable to move and unable to speak
- as the computer goes dead with a pitiful squeak!
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- Head ringing, eyes stinging, he reaches for the switch
- knocking down power on his beautiful witch.
- Benumbed, feeling stunned, not yet able to guess
- the calamitous cause of this horrible mess.
- Traumatic, dramatic, the shock is profound
- for fully a minute he utters no sound.
- Then waking, hands shaking, his temper giver way
- and the curses start flying–––I’m sorry to say.
-
- He curses the Software, the Hard Drives as well,
- He curses the CD’s, and consigns it to Hell.
- He curses the Printer, and gives it a punch,
- He curses the Monitors, and then on a hunch,
- He curses the programs, and still untiring,
- He curses the diodes, transistors and wiring.
- He curses the present, he curses the future,
- He curses the day he first saw a computer.
- At last, quite exhausted, he falls to the floor,
- having twisted his back with one last curse more.
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- Bedeviled, disheveled, his face caulky white,
- eyes bloodshot, tongue lolling, a pitiful sight.
- It’s over, all over, the battle is done.
- Twixt man and machine–––the Computer has won.
- Muttering, stuttering, completely insane,
- he mumbles this warning again and again:
- Idiots, idiots, can’t they all see,
- that anytime now you may end up like me!
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