My Idiot-Savant Computer

Dangerous, insidious e-mail.

Should have just gone to sleep.

Cried myself to sleep, perhaps and I would have felt better

this morning.

But the computer was calling to me,

Come; pour out depression, confusion, sorrow, woe.

Gushing cascade of self-indulgent, babbling drivel

flowed over the keys

into its heart.

And my left ring-finger hovered over the ‘s’ key…

until in a burst of what I called bravery, it hit.

Sent. Gone.

Electronic pulses racing to his account,

embedding themselves inextricably (for me at least)

in his mail.

And he’s read it now. No response, yet.

I wait, and curse my temporary insanity,

and the speed of electronic advancements,

which race far faster than the maturity of the human heart.


M.A. Mohanraj

October 30, 1992