A Computing Poem for the +50's

A computer was something on TV,
From a Science Fiction show of note,
A window was something you hated to clean,
And ram was the father of a goat.

Meg was the name of my girlfriend,
And gig was a job for the night,
Now they all mean different things,
And that really mega bytes.

An application was for employment,
A program was a TV show,
A cursor used profanity,
A keyboard was a piano.

Memory was something that you lost with age,
A CD was a bank account,
And if you had a 3-in. floppy,
You hoped nobody found out.

Compress was something you did to the garbage,
Not something you did to a file,
And if you unzipped anything in public,
You'd be in jail for a while.

Log on was adding wood to the fire,
Hard drive was a long trip on the road,
A mouse pad was where a mouse lived,
And a backup happened to your commode.

Cut you did with a pocket knife,
Paste you did with glue,
A web was a spider's home,
And a virus was the flu.

I guess I'll stick to my pad and paper,
And the memory in my head.
I hear nobody's been killed in a computer crash,
But when it happens they wish they were dead.

- Author Unknown -