Flourescent bulbs burning Up over my head My staff in a panic Conditions all red "Come here and see, sir Spool space is too low" The monitors casting A sickly green glow "This job is abending I can't get it right Programming god help me I'll be here all night I glare at the tape drive Then give it a kick Tape mounts are pending And queuing up quick The printers are jamming The server went down Ten network gurus Are running around The A/C is failing I hear the alarm Computers like cold Goosebumps on my arm A rumble of thunder As in comes a shower Bright lightning flashes And out goes the power Stomping and cursing 'Cause I hate this place I get so frustrated I cover my face My day finally over This job makes me age At home and relaxing When in comes a page...
very clever, sea_of_okc. The poem has a frantic tempo, which, of course, is what you're trying to portray and you do it well. And what do you do after a day like that? You come home and get on the net! Makes sense to me!
I liked your poem...what exactly is your relationship with computers?
Not only did we get hit last week with that virus worm, our computers were constantly going down this week (I was going to say WE were going down this week, thought better of it as this is not the adult forum)...anyway, Friday they said 'something fell out of the network'..huh? Did they mean the bobby pin they use to hold it together? Right! I love computers but when something happens to the system, we are SOL! That's the way to bring down the country!
Cape Cod Massachusetts USA