Permanent Fatal Errors
For Lew Grossberger

The laptop on my table here today,
As elegant and vanishingly small
As any warranty that salesmen say
Is unimplied if unexpressed, seems all -
And more - than anyone could ask if they
Could get all that they wanted to install.
But software jargon holds no greater terrors
Than this brief message: "Permanent Fatal Errors".

No keyboard stroke produces any play;
No mouse-click gives some give - the letters loll
Unmoving and unmoved as teens who lay
About with chores to do; the words enthrall
With primitive attractiveness, the way
An accident slows traffic to a crawl,
For software jargon holds no greater terrors
Than this brief message: "Permanent Fatal Errors".

And as I sit here, staring at the wall
While trying to remember how to pray
Or who among my friends if I should call
Might offer something more than “Fuckin’ A!
You’re screwed like Adam was after the Fall”,
I feel my final nerve begin to fray,
Since software jargon holds no greater terrors
Than this brief message: "Permanent Fatal Errors".

Lew!  The portents pile up to appall
And hope for help has faded into gray --
All software jargon holds no greater terrors
Than this brief message: "Permanent Fatal Errors".

Marcus Bales

If you've any comments on this poem, Marcus Bales would be pleased to hear from you.