You can throw those out, she said, But you see this? Not this,

crick-crack back, stretching for a snack while cleaning out her basement.

This inkjet Epson FX 80 was word perfect, pointing to the dot matrix,

and the eyelet-holed accordion paper beside it.

These never-ending perforated tear-out edges still light enough for kite tail,

even though the carriage stick, and can’t do its staccato

caterpillar shift across the drawbridge. This too.  Angie gave me this,

she said, shining a golden  on the pants leg of her denim.

This 9” IIc cursor blinking green, see how they turn

the floppy 5. 25 drive into a happy-face emoticon?

Saving was a problem. Long-long you waiting while it whirring,

she said, taking a byte of the apple. And still,

you might have to write your whole scream out longhand,

so that you wouldn’t  lose your entire day or mourning writing.

©Cynthia James December 2014