‌Type

Elizabeth liked to type So much more than She liked Mike

Mike preferred numbers

So Liz avoided spreadsheets She preferred paragraphs Numbers were dirty

And only for drafts Like Mike

Victor liked sentences And owned an Olivetti Hence he and Liz clicked When they met at Betty’s For tea and typing poetry

They typed poems like

‘My love my dear when you are not near I can only type xxxxx’ et cetera

They walked the embankment Along the Ouse

And shared tips on Tipp-Ex And ribbon replacement And carriage shift news.

Meanwhile

Mike is counting, 1 2 3 4

Knock at the door It’s a computer Mike hurries to type

Striking the keys like Liz a letter might

A little later

His ode in code composed Elizabeth is home

With love she is crazed Notes a monitor Pointed at her

And reads amazed

This programme has that dick Vic erased. (Space)

Draft

July 24, 2023