T Wignesan Poet Sonnet

To the Lucky Quill-Feathered Poets of Pre-Mac-Pc Yore

When I think of all the seconds I drubbed my fingers

On the skin of long-drummed typefaces to wipe spam

Away from the screen of my inboxes in my computers

I wonder how many years of my life drift as flotsam

So many sales pitches tail in mouth in epizeuses

String their tuneless spiralling from end to no-end

Swim in the swirling soup strings of multiverse oases

Lost as jetsam into a blacksucked bottomless oven  

A spam is a foe who seeks to con you as an old friend

Sure don’t mean that old spiv driveling over your girl

But who’ll make you think you’re good for a lend

While he seeks to worm your hard disc in a whirl

McPeesee McCoffee McMoney or McMaster Kasparov

Spam is the Checkmate King none of us can fend off 

 

© T. Wignesan – Paris, from the Collection “Poems Omega Plus”, 2005.

♡Like0

Share Poem

---

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment