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Amanda Sopkin
Amanda Sopkin

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A Poem from My Computer

Why must you incessantly mash your fingers
Plugging mercilessly at my keys
Hot, greasy, and expectant
From the ‘Z’s over to the ‘P’s

Could you offer a break dear friend
From all this heavy lifting
My system’s nearly all clocked out
I’m barely even resisting

I’ve kept my backups nice and clean
All old ones get deleted
If only you could sort through your junk
And keep just the stuff you needed

You always mutter “not this again”
Demanding rapid start up
But my disks are full, my core is beat
And I have had about enough

You can scream and beg all you want
I am a patient servant
But to be sure I’ll take a nap
Whenever it’s most urgent

Top comments (1)

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Ben Halpern