Loving My Refurbished Fifteen Inch Mid 2015 Macbook Pro
Loving my refurbished fifteen inch mid 2015 Macbook Pro
A lightning fast machine
purchased three days ago
now comfortably nestling with
said technological wonder,
where outside a cold wind howls
measuring windchill factor of five below
allowing, enabling and providing me
an opportunity to create virtual reality
issuing veritable deathblow
to any brave soul daring to weather
the onset of cold air masses
associated with atmospheric winds
nsync with planetary earthflow
spinning on axis
roughly 1,000 miles per hour
and whipping approximately
67,000 miles per hour
around nearest star.
Courtesy Paul Reader
exhibiting gentility, honesty, integrity...
and his co-workers
at Mac Mojo, a small business
319 2nd Ave, Phoenixville, PA 19460,
I relish (cuz hunger
equals the best pickle) surfing the Internet
with nary a hitch,
nor experiencing that odious
spinning pinwheel/beach ball.
Upon acquiring said computer
(Retina, 15-inch, Mid 2015)
facilitated, linkedin, routed...
to the webbed wide world
courtesy wireless fidelity
after plunking down
five hundred and eighty dollars,
yours truly exalts after waking second
perusing favorite (poetry) websites
jumpstarting/kickstarting, googling...
byte size tidbits to incorporate
within latest literary endeavor.
So much for initial
starry eyed burst
regarding what promises
to materialize into
a rambling, dodging, and affording
reasonable rhyme,
nevertheless afflicted with...
mine winkin and blinkin
mind nod yet awake,
nor insights keen,
asper ho hum
fee fie foe fum bling
writer's block as usual,
this (day-glo bull leave
me you) mid morning,
(November nineteenth
two thousand and twenty two),
mine myopic brown
marbled occipital orbs
fixate upon eye opening/closing
lone blinking cursor -
hooping such intense stare
will magically glean
a divine comedy,
or even mediocre
shaky spear writ tragedy, none
the less letting thoughts
glom (cess) pool like
into some elusive essence,
finding me madly chasing
(feebly, lamely, and ridiculously
likened to a teen
age paramour) intriguing,
nattering, and wordlessly
spellbinding notion
all the way to Abilene,
perhaps metamorphosing
into a topnotch
poem (ska lean),
swiftly tailored harried
style even out rivaling
the best newsy
Lake Woebegone
Norwegian bachelor farmer fabulist
(linkedin to hearty
robust Nordic European)
scribes, that juiced might earn
me some crisp
legal tender green,
yet impetus to write,
NOT predicated on ramping
up checking account,
which primary queen
tis essential money source
of mine to pay bills
appears extremely lean,
and thus apologize if
any hint of desperation
(PULL EASE pledge to
Matthew Scott Harris charity)
seeps extemporaneously typing
this poetic expression,
when financial resources
picked bone dry clean,
and me fanciful
thoughts cannot help
wishing for miraculous
intervention tub bring,
a raft of smiley faces
tomb eye gentle mien
such as receiving
an anonymous bajillion
dollars donated (tummy)
from tennis scene legend
(in her own mind)
aery Billie Jean
King, whose near
exhaustive earnings -
at least compared
to thy germane mein kampf
(accrued during - her magical mist
starry re:us horse sing around)
strawberry fields
forever hay day
with tangerine trees,
and marmalade skies
completing tennis
(tense) backdrop against
engendered match with
the late Bobby Riggs.
Copyright © Matthew Harris | Year Posted 2022
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