The Ghost

The ghost started to trouble me on the third day after the death. First, it was the regular stuff with the electricity fluctuations, the banging of doors, the shower spewing blood instead of water, strange constipated sounds from the bathroom while I slept at night and my cat floating mid air above my head when I woke up one Sunday morning. 

I ignored it all the best I could. But then, the Sunday newspaper was gone. Not completely gone, just the cartoon section from the whole issue. And there I was on a bright sunny Sunday morning, standing at the kitchen counter in my morning gown, with a cuppa coffee in my hand and a newspaper without the cartoons page.

Fuck.

"This is so not done man," I said to the wind in the kitchen that stirred like a chuckle escaping from a fat man's throat.
As soon as I had said this, the tap in the sink turned on by itself, gushing out something black and fizzy. I moved forward to turn it off when it turned off by itself. I turned around and I heard the sickly smelling liquid rushing in the sink again. I turned to close it and it was gone.

I poured my coffee down the sink, rinsed the cup with the water that smelled suspiciously like Diet Pepsi and set forth to perform the techno exorcism for the ghost of my dead hard drive.

If there is one thing I am sure it is that the hard drive died because of old age and not because 99.9% of its space was occupied by illegal porn that my friends had stored on it. But anyway, I had an exorcism to perform and soon I was rummaging through my drawer for the different articles that will help me get rid of the cartoon-page-thief ghost. I marked out a Venn diagram on the now defunct CPU cabinet which now lay on its side like a dead dog. Then I colored the circles in the diagram with pink and black wax crayons, I placed a picture of Steve Gates above the Venn diagram and muttered the exorcism rap. It went something like this;

You were the hard drive, YO!
Once you were alive, YO!
But now you are dead, YO!
So get outta my head, YO!

Betta not be a whore, YO!
Betta not ask fo mo, YO!
Just want you to know, YO!
We want you to go, YO!!

Thus, it was done and I was rid of the ghost of the dead hard drive, but I missed drinking Pepsi out of the kitchen tap. 

-----------------------

Woah! This one was intense! Not shitty enough for you? Then check out a poem about a sea of shit.