Mr. T-blog sent me a poem (Thanks!). It was inspired by the loss of TWO printers in a span of only two months. I can relate to the magnitude of this disaster. Apologies to Walt Whitman.
O Printer! my Printer! our fearful trip is done,
The laserjet has weather’d every rack, the PPM we sought is won,
The USB port is near, the drum roller I hear, the users all expletiving,
While follow eyes the DPI, the copy jam grim and daring;
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of ink,
Where on the desk my Printer lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
My Printer does not answer, his papertrays are pale and still,
My HP does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,
The laserjet is recycled safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,
From Staples trip the victor ship comes in with replacement won;
Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
But I with mournful tread,
Watch the desk my Printer lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
-Mr T-blog
No comments:
Post a Comment