Laptop Fight

I’m fraught. My laptop

fought and fought.

It flip-flapped when I dared

to touch its keys to write;

resisted my insistence

on continuing. Winnowing

through words I thought

it might like better,

it coughed up the spirit

and the letter of them back,

as slick as phlegm, as quick

as I could tap it out.

I sic-ed Mumbai upon it

through remote control.

Two brilliant Indians caused

it to roll reluctantly back

into use. But all my screws

are loose. I’m shook.

My laptop doesn’t

like my book.





.