Tap, Tap, Tap,               TAPTAPTAPTAP,
       
Ricekty Ric,         Rickety Ric, Ric, Ric, Ric,

      Tick, Tick, Tick,          Tick Tap, Tick Tap, Tick Tap,

Went my blue manual portable
Typewriter
As I pounded away anxiously on an essay
Paper
For this English class.
My mechanical aptitude was like an infant
Drowning
              in the middle of an
              ocean, or
In the family's bathtub, or
              in the body of quicksand
As my mind detoured to a 
Day
From the past.
This girl I met,
I am now trickling with my
fingers,
Smiled at me in a class.
I now nervously type the letter,
'T,'
As my typewriter buzzes as to the mood of my 
Recollection
of a piercing passion.
I now begin to type on a brand new
line.
Her saturated yellow body 
Glowed
Like a fierced flaming 
Sunlight
As she stood to write on the 
Blackboard
Wearing a silk halter top.
I now type the letter 'G' instead of an
'F.'
Oh God. 
             Holy Smoke!
Please help me to finish this paper on
time.
I now use correction fluid on my
mistake.
I now gaze down at my paper in 
Disgust,
Only to be overtaken through a dream like
State.
This girl had evaporated the 
Essence
Of my present thoughts from the events from a day of the
Old.
I now retype this fourth page 
Nervously
With a shredded fear of some kind of 
Hope
That my mind would be in tune to my original
Thoughts.
As I continue to type, my 
machine
Echoes the thoughts on my
Mind.
She walked up to me at the
End
Of this class
And gave me her phone 
Number
With a big laugh.
I never saw her again after this particular
Day.
The talk got around that she had dropped this english
Class,
And transfered to another 
College.
I now gaze down again at my messy and incorrect
paper.
Jesus.   Jesus!   Jesus?
IDON'TBELIEVETHISISHAPPENINGTOME!
I must get it right this
Time.
Again, I insert a clean sheet of
paper.
I retype the fourth page correct this
Time.
Finally, with a clear 
Concentration
On my subject matter, I 
superseded
the thoughts of a heartbroken
Vision
Toward the completion of a five page 
Essay.
This inanimate object,
A machine, without feelings, tapped the beat according to my miserable
Mood
After I injected into it a thought from my
Past
Which never triumphed over my
Original
Thought which was, by the way, graded an
'A.'