Friday, July 5, 2013
Holy Goddess, Merciful God,
I've saved to the folder, and Google Docs
I've sent my buddy the last little bit
Please don't let the computer eat my shit.
I've burned incense, eaten chocolate too
And carefully swept my keyboard of goo
I've waved an old pen and a wand and a sword
Don't let technology eat my words.
I've watched the blue line travel across my doc
Don't let bytes attempt to block
That all important saving thing
Oh let it be saved, kazaam, kazing!
They're good words, deities, I swear to you both!
And even if not, I'm really loath
To spend precious time typing them again!
I'd go faster with paper and pen!
And who do I curse, when it goes awry?
What heavens do I rage at, curse and cry?
Whose dog do I kick? On whose feet do I spit?
What do I beat up to get over it?
"Why!" I wail, "Oh gods, why!
I hit the right buttons, I really did try
Not to incur your technology wrath
And to stay on the straight and backed up path!
Why must you punish me by eating my words!
I typed them late at night-- they're a blur!
I want the same passage, down to the last letter!
(Nevermind that a rewrite might just be better...)"
But the computer ignores me, and continues to eat,
(While suspicious parts inside overheat)
And I'm stuck with a gap between what I wrote
And what the computer still has on my notes.
Oh fuck it-- I give--I acknowledge the worst.
The words are all gone, no matter how much I curse.
In a minute I'll get back to work and rewrite
But first let me whine on the net just for spite.
And now, finally, I"m back to my task.
It's like drinking vinegar-- don't even ask.
And you know the worst thing, that taints every letter?
Don't you just hate it, when the rewrite is better?
****This poem of rage is dedicated to the lost 1500 words of Ethan Gold. RIP, words--we shall always wonder at the potential that was you.