Today's poems [1.2.10]

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There was a young lady called Dawn

Who wished she had never been born.

She wouldn't have been

If her father had seen

That the end of his rubber was torn.


Sent by Charles

There was a young man in Hong Kong 
               Who grew seven fathoms of prong. 
                    It looked, when erect, 
                    About as you'd expect--- 
               When coiled it did not seem so long. 

                    A young baseball fan named Miss Glend
                            
                    Was the home team's best rooter and friend,
                            But for her the big league
                            Never held the intrigue
                            
                    Of a bat with two ball at the end.
                            

               A bobby of Nottingham Junction 
               Whose organ had long ceased to function 
                    Deceived his good wife 
                    For the rest of her life 
               With the aid of a constable's truncheon. 

                            Abort, Retry, Ignore
     
   
Once upon a midnight dreary, fingers cramped and vision bleary,
System manuals piled high and wasted paper on the floor,
Longing for the warmth of bedsheets,
Still I sat there, doing spreadsheets:
Having reached the bottom line,
I took a floppy from the drawer.
Typing with a steady hand, I then invoked the SAVE command
But got instead a reprimand: it read "Abort, Retry, Ignore."

Was this some occult illusion? Some maniacal intrusion?
These were choices Solomon himself had never faced before.
Carefully, I weighed my options.
These three seemed to be the top ones.
Clearly, I must now adopt one:
Choose Abort, Retry, Ignore.

With my fingers pale and trembling,
Slowly toward the keyboard bending,
Longing for a happy ending, hoping all would be restored,
Praying for some guarantee
Finally I pressed a key -
But on the screen what did I see?
Again: "Abort, Retry, Ignore."

I tried to catch the chips off-guard -
I pressed again, but twice as hard.
Luck was just not in the cards.
I saw what I had seen before.
Now I typed in desperation
Trying random combinations
Still there came the incantation:
Choose: Abort, Retry, Ignore.

There I sat, distraught, exhausted, by my own machine accosted
Getting up I turned away and paced across the office floor.
And then I saw an awful sight:
A bold and blinding flash of light -
A lightning bolt had cut the night and shook me to my very core.
I saw the screen collapse and die
"Oh no - my database," I cried.
I thought I heard a voice reply,
"You'll see your data Nevermore."

To this day I do not know
The place to which lost data goes.
I bet it goes to heaven where the angels have it stored.
But, as for productivity, well
I fear that it goes straight to hell.
And that's the tale I have to tell.
Your choice: Abort, Retry, Ignore.
  

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