Ode to the Maladjusted Printer

Just when I think I can leave work on time
You come to me with a nasty line
“Please Wait, Adjusting” you always say
And then with a flash, you ruin my day

Always waiting, you maladjusted machine
Need paper, it’s jammed—oh, I could scream!
The color is wrong, the word’s off the page
“Please Wait, Adjusting”, Oh the Rage!

Three minutes are left or so you say
That’s why I’ll be leaving late today
The tech is here, he’s been here all week
“Please Wait, Adjusting”—and now you’re asleep?