[This week's Monday Poetry Stretch at The Miss Rumphius Effect was to write an apostrophe - a piece that directly addresses an absent person or a thing. Go see what the other folks came up with!]
Caged
I don't know how you do it,
how you keep me captive
for hour after eye-crossing hour,
helping me etch that vertical
line in my forehead ever deeper.
I don't know why I let you.
I don't like that line very much,
and I'm not too fond of you either.
Still,
I find satisfaction in all
those numbers, lined up
column after tidy column,
with totals and sub-totals.
Wrap a bow around it and
sound the trumpet fanfare!
Ta-da! The spreadsheet is done.
And good riddance, Excel,
until the next time.
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8 comments:
There is something satisfying about a spreadsheet that functions the way you intended it to - isn't there??
Hi, DaisyBug. Yes, but I'd rather be writing poetry. In fact, that was almost in the last line of this poem!
Awesome - loved it! Michele sent me.
Thanks, scrappintwinmom.
Nice images: the line on your forehead, the lines on the spreadsheet. I can relate to this!
Hello, Cloudscome. Thanks.
Greetings. I'm not really here via Michele, but I was poking around the comments and decided to visit on a slow Sunday afternoon.
I really enjoyed the post. The reference to passover in St. Louis reminded me of an invitation my parents received for them and my brother and me to have a Passover dinner with my mom's former employer in St. Louis. They we were, a Baptist family, caught up in the celebration and sanctity of the event. It was very moving.
Thanks for bringing back a heretofore buried memory.
Cheers.
Hello, R. Sherman. Glad you stopped by. I'm glad I could open a memory for you. By the way, we usually have more Gentiles than Jews at our Passover celebrations - it is a perfect holiday for inviting those from other backgrounds because it is all about teaching.
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