This morning's random poem.

090305/Qwerty madness

Father, let us drag these antiques to the sea
The Ionian seems right, its pellucid water
Filled with classical mullet and blenny.
Let’s give these typewriters no quarter
Monstrous and clunky, with missing 'P's
And ribbons that won’t work like they oughter.
My business keyboard is appealingly grey
Never to distract my eyes from the screen.
I honour my workstation every day
For work makes free as one of the team
With every chance to socialise and play.
Sometimes I get this interrupting dream:
A strange qwerty question of RSI
And whapp exactly happpppens when you ppie.