Thursday, February 08, 2007

Ode to My Inbox

Silly, bastard inbox
How dare you be full again today?
I worked so hard to empty you out
The whole goddamn time I was here yesterday.

How can a cheap piece of plastic
Cause rage in me so deep
I feel my hackles rise
And my nails dig so deep?

You vex me with your smirk
As I approach the office door
You deserve a good hard beating
With perhaps something dimensionally two by four.

Evil, oh, evil evil freakish inbox
How I seek to malign you to my friends
But alas, they refuse to believe me
And my please of mercy go on without end.

You are like a prostitute
Letting strange people fill you with objects that I do not want
But I am not your pimp, I take no commission
This, I should make my daily mission:
To create my world where the inbox cannot be such an affliction.

A paperless world where faxes and interdepartmental
envelopes serve no purpose but as trash can fodder.
You shall assist me in giving life to this new world,
My paperless Xanadu shall be your daughter.

A world where correspondence and paper
Need not the services of a courier
But are transmitted electronically
Through a waste-effective computer.

Oh, silly, bastard email inbox...