Reven Archer Black: Author of Fantasy & Speculative Fiction

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Poem: Of Thee I Ask, Peripheral

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Of Thee I Ask, Peripheral

Fie, thou accursed mouse wheel,
for whose permission didst thou
obtain to run errant?

In such simplicity was thy task,
to guide the wayward arrow
up towards the heavens
and down towards the roots
tangled in the frozen earth.

The curious hands I dare pull back
desire to undo thee,
hinge by hinge
until thou art naught but fragments
displaying openly what thou art made of.

And yet, methinks craftily in my demise,
I shall let ye dwell
per chance the whispers of a dalliance
with another whets thy jealousy.

Other terms I cannot fathom
for they will not so acutely state
the inner turmoil I have for thee,
yet these last etchings
from my fingers slip:
Get yourself together and start scrolling, or I’m throwing you out and buying a new one.



So a couple weeks ago, my computer mouse upped and partially went on strike in the middle of the day. More specifically, the scrolling function died. No warning. No nothing. I did (almost) everything I could think of. Restarted the computer. Fiddled with the mouse settings. Uninstalled then reinstalled it. Being a plug-and-play optical mouse, there’s only so much left to do. I considered tearing the thing apart, which lasted for about a minute. Figured that I’d probably end up breaking it apart completely and then I’d have no mouse.

So what’s a writer to do?

Write about it.


Somewhere between very tired and too awake to go back to sleep, this came to me. Don’t know why it came out more along the Shakespearean line. I haven’t written anything like this since high school. A little rusty but otherwise just some cheeky fun.

Kind of like technology as a whole.


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