The internet is slow tonight
Which makes it hard for me to write
In such a way my words are read
Beyond the table by my bed,
Not that that’s important, since,
Like me, most folks are on the fence
(At best) concerning whether they
Can download what I wrote today,
But even so, I find it galling
That the time I’ve wasted stalling,
Conjuring elaborate
Excuses for not writing yet,
Might well have been spent eat– er, loving,
Knowing I could write while shoving
Bytes up through the Stevens Tubes
To where the internet is. Rubes
Who aren’t as technically inclined
As I don’t get it; they don’t mind
The wait, ’cause “that’s just how it is,”
But me? I’m in the cyber biz
So when the system fails for me
I feel betrayed. I ought to be
The one the wi-fi caters to!
I’m not a noob (“newbie,” to you)
Who has to sit and take it when
The web goes– Hey, don’t plug that in!
You’ll break it! Let the expert– Oh,
It’s working now?
Good.
You may go.
Clogged Tubes
Published
