This is the note that I crave
when emails are rising about me,
and all of them I have to save.
The boss has a project a-brewing;
the spouse needs the car right away.
A friend shares a video up link.
The dentist wants me in today.
I start ev'ry morning determined
to clean out my email stockpile;
by noon I am still behind schedule,
my stomach starts filling with bile.
I'm paralyzed with indecision,
so tempted to hit the 'delete'
to wipe out this online affliction
and go eat a bowl of puffed wheat.
I yearn for a blackout of power
from nature or nuclear bomb;
or maybe I'll give it all over
and move to a place like Assam.
I'm up late, replying to queries
so frivolous I want to scream;
the Internet needs Torquemada
to be its preeminent meme!
The weekends do not bring abatement;
my smartphone keeps me in the loop.
I get even more dumb malarkey
from chatty insane nincompoop!
But then comes the notice: I'm laid off.
My emails are caught in a drought.
My inbox is empty and dusty,
and weeds are beginning to sprout.
Oh, for the days when an email
would need a reply PDQ.
Now I'm an internet leper,
whose emails have dwindled to few . . .
No comments:
Post a Comment