POEM: THE WHITE SCREEN OF DEATH

oh my cold grey metal fifteen-inch beast how I love you
I greet you in the morning with anticipation
ready to see what you bring to me
ready to groove with you all day and all of the night.

restart

click clack click clack

oh

no.

nonononono!

HOW

HOW!

could you do this?

to ME, your one and only?

ME, the one who protects you, fills you with delights?

YOU

YOU!!

bring to ME

the white screen of death

that glowing ghostly horror of failure which stops me

right

in

my

tracks.

YOU

have shit the bed.

is it me?

did I give you too much, too soon?

did I overload you with information and damage your delicate sensibilities?

perhaps so, perhaps so.

a thousand ghost crows now peck at my hair, cawing "DID YOU BACKUP? DID YOU BACKUP?"

oh shut up you vile opportunists; go steal tinfoil or something

my baby

is sick

and I long for its return from the land of the Geniuses

who tell me my warranty is in force

and the problem

is

unknown.