laptop blues

on the road east with the laptop blues
at the marsh's edge—tantramar taunting
me to enter its morass, to cross at my own risk,
the neck is narrow, bottled, gripping
nova scotia to hang on, to not drift away
on the briny—wee green wedgie or no
and i'm on the road with my laptop,
my electronic lapdog, hot and hungry
beside me—talking to me, wanting
attention— words and fingers
scratching under chin and behind ears
no honeybees on me, sir, no, sir, no

shirt: dark grey, no text
temp: 24 C, 41% hum, blue, blue sky
locale: under the evers of limbo
sound: Fleetwood Mac from Rumours