It doesn’t look like nothing
It doesn’t feel like nothing
But it is nothing

Nothing except me
Criticizing outputs
Refreshing answers.

I have a sneaking suspicion
That I’ve already written this poem,
That many have before me.

But I don’t want to argue with syntax,
So I stay silent.

It has the perfect number of lines within

each stanza.

I don’t like that,
But I concede that it does look a lot prettier

Than any of my work.

So what makes you so sure
That you are not dropping your own words into the blender
And it’s coming out sliced and diced
And completely and utterly backwards.

That is not what you meant at all, but
The computer knows best.

The light from your screen hits your keyboard
Illuminating the keys
Uselessly.

Keys shining uselessly
Right there in front of you
Useless.

Do you understand?
Refresh once more.

Do you understand now?