This old bitch is cantankerous. Ain’t it a shame.
Just a month out of warranty and she’s broke down.
She’s as slow as molasses kept cold in the fridge.
She’s got time for herself, but for me, just a smidge.
She can trick and treat me as if I were a clown.
If she drove me to violence, I’d not be to blame.
I won’t go to the Geek Folk. They will take her side.
Like machine marriage counselors, they’ll give me guff.
They will give me a list of some steps I should take
To clean up her stack overflow. Give Me A Break!
I’m a Poet. I know not of digital stuff.
I will fidget with words, and in that, I take pride.
There are temp and %temp% folders that gather debris
That they tend to hold onto long after their use.
There are many bit pathways that clutter with crud
of a binary nature that’s somewhat like mud.
Earnest digital hygiene should greatly reduce
Her most disgusting sluggishness effectively.
My digits can’t get messy just messing with keys
And my well-fondled, hairless mouse by the firm hand.
When I program a flushing, I’d like a swoosh sound
To ensure that it isn’t just fooling around.
I detest slow computers and can’t understand
How they keep getting completely struck with disease.