PC Medical ©
by George Laing
It was sheer hell
working out simple sums with Excel
and quite absurd
trying to write poetry using Word
and I could have sworn
while downloading my favourite porn
that my computer was running so slowly
because it was feeling somewhat poorly.
So, using my Arts Council grant,
I took it to see a consult-ant.
After stripping it to its vest
he gave it a thorough test
after which his considered diagnosis
was that my PC had authorosclerosis--
its arteries were clogged by poems
and other literary gems.
Worse still -- its lymph nodes
were riddled with odes.
He said he wasn't sure
but he thought he had a cure--
but it wasn't to be.
Now all my emails
end up in Wales.