This dates me- I got my degrees on an old Underwood Typewriter, the beast!
You beady-eyed beast!
At my frail efforts
Or I'll punch your little black teeth
You have proven your disdain
For pounding, one-fingered typists -
You need not continue -
Your point is well made.
You bite my fingers,
Chew my work and spit at me -
You play games with my sentences
Until it seems the mistakes are mine,
Have you no pity,
Is your little clicking mind
A casual friendship will not do?
I won't be your doting mistress -
Heart throbbing in ecstatic thrills
At the mere flip
Of your little finger!
*2nd place in Write Stuff! June 2004