I've been writing poetry:
I really don't know why;
must be a broken circuit,
in my cranial wires.
I rhyme 'bout sex and silicon
(computer chips to you),
copulation and keyboards
and plugs and sockets too.
My job is very logical,
at least that's how it seems,
but if that really is the case
why am I shouting at my SCREEN?
Poetry is an outlet,
for my lack of sex.
Perhaps if I got out more,
I wouldn't need to kvetch.

