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My Computer Doesn't Like Poetry
My computer doesn't like poetry.
It capitalizes the first letter of lines whether I want it to
Or not.
Green underlining means
It doesn't like my syntax.
When it goes red, it doesn't like the way I
Spell.
It objects to
Big blue box
As a line of its own. It objects to three adjectives
In a row. It doesn't like my
Prepositional phrases. In the line
Who ended her poem
It objects to poem in red even though I spelled it right.
I want a special computer for poetry. All kinds of
Indentations And spacing, and line
Breaks.
A little window has popped up on my screen
All by itself. It starts talking to me about
Why it doesn't like my syntax.
"It looks like you're writing a letter," it says of my poem.
The window speaks in a cartoon balloon. "Would you like
Help?"
A paper clip bent into a smile
Tells me these words with glue-on eyes
Like you buy at the fabric store.
The paper clip has an illuminated light bulb
Over its head to show it has a Good Idea.
"Get help with writing the letter or just type the letter
without help or Cancel."
The eyes open and close. The paper clip wiggles back
And forth to get my attention
In a friendly manner. I take pleasure in Cancelling
and the double L in cancel
as a gerund that it doesn't like
And I go on with my line about the box
And the woman who ended her poem.
"My Computer Doesn't Like Poetry" - Third Prize, Humour Category, The Poets' Dinner, 2002
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