No, not you.
O feckless fubsy piece of plastic
capricious device of devious devil ─
discipline your rebel arrow
wildly flying ‘cross the page.
You fail to stop at amber signal,
hide so coyly in the margin,
sending poet red with rage.
O silent gizmo, rolling beastie,
what ails your cruel unsteady march?
You give conniptions to the user,
believing she should be in charge.
Ah, now you fail me, dourly dying,
slowly, slower, stopped.
I fumble with another plastic ─
nightmare packaging defies me
as contents roll along the floor.
O double A saviour, do your duty;
rescue me from wordless Word,
propel this rodent on its way
around the screen with fluent movement
pausing at the lightest click.
Allow manoeuvres slickly chosen –
copy, save, delete and stick,
Quickly, poet, use the lull.
Tap out words before you lose it,
use inspiration to the full.
O joyful creature, you have done it ─
allowed the words to flow,
albeit clumsily, with pauses,
but now it’s written, do I love you?
Comes emphatic answer: NO.
Carolee Bennett gives us a prompt to write an ode on “practice” for Napowrimo day 25. I know this isn’t quite what she’s asking for, but thought this one might amuse a few readers. Since writing this cri de coeur, I have invested in a new mouse, and all those problems are a thing of the past.
Also linked for dVerse Open Link Night Do visit the pub to see some lovely poetry.