Damned thing!
The spring!
I went to clean my mouse,
Unscrewed the louse;
One screw and I knew
I was in trouble.
Out sprang the spring
All over the house.
Bounced off the tweezers,
Sideways off the monitor,
Leeward of the keyboard
Where it rests, sullen.
And there it stays.
I can’t see where it goes, no ways.
A small thing, this spring,
But not quintessential.
Instrumental not at all
It seems.
For lo! My computer works still
Without the thrill
Of spring
This May 2nd
Grey and cloudy
Sullen, dowdy
Like my mouse.
Spring-less.