My little fax beside me stands, upon my desk with dignity.
And yet between its plastic bands, a blank sheet rests for all to see.
Green lights brightly blinking shine, bringing courage to my heart.
I’ll wait for someone’s push online to send the signal, “talk, send, start.”
In silence I repeat the call to stem my wave of mounting rage,
Perhaps today I shall be blessed with writing on the empty page.
Should I send faxes? Perhaps by luck, like arrows falling who knows where,
Someone’s hand will find and pluck this random cipher of despair.
Come then, your destiny fulfill, seize the moment I implore,
Lest my dreary monthly bill remains unjustified once more.
Even you must know (and dread), the end of fax machines is near.
So write this on your empty page: “We’ll only need you one more year.”
-Doug Garrett