A fervent plea, an impassioned SOS to
the remote IT - Help, my computer's
failed; disciples of cool calmly reply,
bring us the CPU. CPU? Yes, it means
dismantle, dissemble or disembowel
the beast, locate the malfunctioning
piece, balance precariously on a chair
with wheels and drag it down here
Security says disbelievingly, Oh no, you
must fill out this form in duplicate at
least, CPU detail, your name - and oh,
plus another for the chair;
Struggling with anxious sweat brow-
breaking and running unchecked down
my face, finally reach IT - my arrival
ignored - Please, I beg, sanitise my
virus-infected CPU - Tech Siyabonga
says, Ok, leave it, we'll fix it soon and
abruptly leaves to teach me the true
meaning of ‘laissez-faire' - deflated
return to empty desk noted by June
who offers use of desk-top spare, I'm
suddenly hub of activity - Mme La
Pompadour making funny remarks, a
baby crying somewhere, June and
Hanlie happily laughing creates a
safe atmosphere in which every
translation moment is blissfully
ensconced in a bright bubble their
dedicated work ethic creates, such
a wonderful feeling being part of
the show…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wow! Margaret! What a very creative and outstanding piece you got here! I am a Computer Tech and I know exactly what you are talking about! This is a very unique style that really caught my immediate attention! Amazing! 10+++ Keep it up and God Bless You! Love and Peace for always! Romeo from New York City! ...