The Poet

Whose laptop is that? I think I know.
Its owner’s not so happy though.
For on it he works like a drone
Getting that Carpal Tunnel Thingydrome

The laptop bounces on his knees
Fingers clacketing on the keys
He gives it such a thorough shake
He laughs until his belly aches

Is he writing an adventure?
Or suffering from advanced dementia?
No wonder those around him look
For laptops never should be shook

Chided as a loud contrarian
He’s scolded by the bold librarian
She won’t endure his poppycock
He blushes claiming writer’s block

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