Of Hard Drives and The Sunday Truce

Two knuckles into
Writing a grant and grading exams
When the blitz dropped
Neutron bombs onto my hard drive
Lost. Gone. Finito.

Most of the work survived, but
The day of purposeful and professional writing
Would have to wait
Until the tech department heroes
Worked their automotive magic
To repair the old Chevette
Stuffed into my employer issued Acer

So now what
Why not talk about an old lady in a bonnet
Going to church with her gangster grandson
Only to have her bonnet shot
Right off her God fearing head

That’s right
Shot right off her head
By a couple of unthinking hooligans
During the Sunday truce

Fortunately, she made off better than
My computer’s innards
Which didn’t survive the nuclear explosion
Nothing makes a difficult computer day
Better than serious conversation
About the streets of West Bmore

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