Faux Warfare

Been on it. Amazing fast between Philly and HBG.

A DUMMY’S LAMENT
or, Why I Haven’t Been Around Lately

I have a sad tale to relate, I shan’t detain you long.
It has to do with clumsiness and how things all went wrong.
Two weeks ago I made to sup, some ham on a baguette
With amber nectar on the side. How better could it get?

My trusty laptop next to me, commenting for to do
(I’d even joked with mrbrink, a fav’rite thing, it’s true).
But then I got distracted and for my pint glass I tried.
Alas, it was not where I thought and electronics fried.

“Oh, no!” I cried (no, that’s not true, “Oh frak! Oh frell!” I said),
And ere I could mop up the spill, my MacBook, it was dead.
It was an idiot mistake, I do you truly tell,
For liquid and ‘lectricity don’t go together well.

That Monday, to the shop I hied, just playing out the string,
And asked if it were possible to fix the bloody thing.
Ricardo wasn’t certain he’d find anything alive,
But maybe he could copy off the data on the drive.

I left him to his fragrant task (I cannot tell a lie:
My MacBook reeked of hops and malt, the stuff that made it die).
On Wednesday morn, my mobile rang—Ricardo, the screen read—
With trepidation, I picked up. “Say something good,” I said.

“It runs!” he said, amazed as I, “The data’s still there, too.
The keyboard’s toast, that’s no surprise, and here is what I’ll do:
I’ll have the part sent out from some supplier through the mail
And then I’ll test so I can see if something else will fail.”

The days crept by without a word until a sheepish call.
Ricardo had installed the ‘board. It didn’t work at all.
“Bizarre” and “weird” were just two words to this we did apply.
It should have worked. It’s quite enough to make two grown men cry.

“I’ll keep it just a few more days and try a thing or two.
The keyboard should be working, I’m just as confused as you.”
“Okay,” I said, “but then we’re through. I do appreciate
The work you’ve put into this job. My MacBook you must hate.”

Then finally I got a call (Ricardo, you’ll have guessed)
“The keyboard simply will not work. I fear I’ve failed this test.
It runs just fine,” Ricardo said. “You’ll get it back Monday.
The damn’ thing really kicked my ass. Sorry for the delay.”

Today, I got my laptop back. It’s not as good as new.
I’m anxiously awaiting the drop of another shoe.
A new computer’s in the works, and not ahead of time.
(Oh, dear, I cannot find a word that finishes this rhyme.)

This poem’s running mighty long. I think that I should stop
Before you tell me this topic is something I should drop.
So all you online denizens, a warning take by me:
Don’t ever try to raise a glass when commenting you be.

With sincerest apologies to all poets and lovers of poetry.

–alopecia