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Magic Box
by Madeline PestolesiBlack armor of plastic.
Shielding the innards:
The sensitive mass.
Heat will warp,
Liquid destroy
The magic box from which
Jack Johnson plays.
Accoustic guitar vibrates.
Do my math.
Do my homework.
Write that essay.
Exhale that poem.
Regurgitate
It
Into
Something
Worth
Reading.
Sit and stare,
Blank face.
With your huge
Square eye.
Don't make a sound
Just await my next command.
07/24/2003 Author's Note: Yes, it's about my computer. I need new inspiration.
Posted on 07/24/2003
Copyright © 2025 Madeline Pestolesi
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Max Bouillet on 07/29/03 at 03:08 PM Sounds like your puter could use some digital viagra. All kidding aside this is a nice little poem that serves as a fitting tribute to that which most of take for granted. |
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