Ode to the epub

Once a format I loved to read,
but now a monster that I must feed

More than a bee,
thou art the yogi’s knees:
bendy, malleable, and free –
all things I thought a file should be

Yet raindrops in a thunderstorm
could said to be more uniform

The fonts! They stick and move and jump!
First a diaspora, then a clump

This tiny photo has grown so large,
the pizza pictured now fills a barge

The freedom to publish, write, create!
…yet now I’m deeply filled with hate

Plenty are olden formats superior,
with ink and paper, no motives ulterior

Or perhaps a chisel to carve a mineral
would save me from an early funeral

Ancestors bless me and teach me cave painting,
with ochre and fats and fumes that cause fainting

At least my delirium would be artistically won
‘stead of from head-desking late nights up through dawn

Oh, epub, I loved thee with all of my liver
but now your syllables evoke a shiver

I’m certain we shall meet again
But next time be warned: I will bring friends

The battle to conquer will be o’er much faster
Dear epub, I shall be thy master!

Until that blessed day doth arrive,
with Sun Tzu I shall connive

We’ll form a plan and overwhelm you utterly
and kick you to the stinking gutter …ly.

This poem ends with a moan and a whimper;
I return to works that are far and away simpler

Good day to you, epub, and mind yourself duly
Next time ’tis thee who shall be treated most cruelly!