Poetry - My life (v1)

My life...v1

My life is a mess,
but my computer is clean
my life is a mess,
but my computer is clean
my life is a mess, but my computer is clean
with anal retentive obsessive-compulsive expletive repetitive motion
and every folder’s in a folder
and every folder’s in a folder
and every folder’s in a folder
on a partition on my hard drive.
My poetry folder from WSU’s
in a folder for spring for WSU
in a folder that’s called WSU
in a folder that’s called WPdocs
in a folder that’s called WP-5
on drive C of that
patient, provocative, tolerant wife: my computer.
By life, I’m a surgeon for all of my wives,
as computers go, in all of my life,
for when one dies, I build yet another
as Frankenstein’s bride never had it so bad
for sometimes its only her breasts are replaced
and sometimes its her skin
and sometimes its her brain
as the electrical pulses churn pump data divine
between interrupt states
when the video rasters
and the mouse tells the matter
to the pointing routine
as the background turns green, then red, then blue
flickering faster so all I see is the white screen
while my mind filters out the obvious
the timing is obvious
the meter is obvious
and I’m so oblivious that a billion nanoseconds had been born
have lived,
have died,
every second I was aware that I’d infected myself.
I opened an email
and virused my system
while SirCam32.exe replicated itself into obscurity,
adding complexity to my bastion of order,
for my life was a mess, now my computer’s a mess,
my life is a mess, and my computer’s a mess,
and with utter distress, I reinstalled Windows ME
for the goddamned virus not only wiped out my order,
it also wiped out me.