I Busted My Website

A poem about busting one's website.

I busted my website
like pottery jostled from a countertop.
There's only one word for the occasion
and that word is this:

Oops.

One moment, all was functional.
The next, kaput.
I probably should've backed it up,
but the only thing I back up
is my azz.

So I tried repairing it myself,
only I sliced my fingers on all the jagged shapes,
and then I felt faint and feeble,
so I called customer support.

John answered.
"Hi John," I said. "I just busted my website.
Can you fix it?"

Turns out John was an AI. So I asked for a human,
and when I got my human—

[Holding...holding...holding...]

—his name was also John.

"Hi John," I repeated.
And yada yada yada.

John put me back on hold while he
glued together the shards of my site.
I sat there waiting,
answering emails,
wondering why a domain can be so fragile.

"It's fixed," said John.

"Thank you," said I.

"You have a nice day now," said John.

And I did. Until I check my website,
and noticed some cracks,
and it all fell apart again.

And now I must redial.
"Hello customer support, my old friend.
I've come to complain to you again.

"...John? Is that you?"

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Kyle A. Massa is a comedy author of some sort living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife, their daughter, and three wild animals. His published works include 10 books, along with several short stories, essays, and poems. When he’s not writing, he enjoys reading, running, and drinking cheap coffee.

Some links in this publication might be affiliate links. This means the author earns a commission on sales made through those links, while you pay no additional cost. Just another way to support indie authors!

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