That MachineA Poem by Andrew JohnFreeverseWhy does a machine go to sleep? You leave it for five or ten minutes, depending on your favoured setting, and, well, down it goes. It's a machine. You want to throttle it! One is so miffed, and so pissed off. I had a friend who queried why I dropped off for five or ten. I would open my eyes; his glared, were vexed. I would stare. He wanted to smother me. Friends appear in different forms. I love my computer; I love my friend. Each has a favoured setting. A setting favoured by it, by him, by me. (17 Feb 2024)
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