Printers Are the Devil's Spawn (Light, Summer 2019)

Authors: Rob Jackson

Printers Are the Devil's spawn

They look so sleek on Amazon.

Their cantilevered DNAs

a terminator replicon

that drains your bank and eats your days.

They're cheap. They tempt you, stupid john.

Magenta, cyan, laserjet it.

Each cartridge costs a billion yuan

those little black skirts. You'll regret it.

You're suckered in with silicon

dump reams of slanted letterhead,

"Load Paper", but the paper's gone.

They keep on jamming like the Dead.

You're told you've bought the Parthenon

with columns true as Doric marble.

Instead, your job's a marathon.

They freeze, impediments that garble.

You're nothing but a willing pawn

to evil ink that keeps injecting.

Each error sprouts a leprechaun

whose pot of gold you spend correcting.

Emmanuel! They won't turn on.

Their help-line's e-communique

protects them like the Pentagon.

Don't pay them, throw the beast away.