A Mouse Is A Mouse - Or Is It? Poem by Sandra Conner

A Mouse Is A Mouse - Or Is It?



Is it mouses or is it mice?
I've asked this question more than twice.
As I sit before my monitor,
I'm quite sure I am just not sure.

When two computers I must use,
All the appendages come in two's
I shuffle keyboards, arrange them nice,
But then I must hook up the … mice?

My only other choice is "mouses."
My sensitive nature that arouses.
For an English teacher I'll always be,
And "mouses" chafes and digs at me.

Surely "mice" should be allowed,
But then I start to laugh out loud.
Confound the name! How did it start?
Bill English and Doug Englebart!

It's all their fault; they must admit.
And foolish names are such a hit.
And dictionaries help not at all;
They make it an individual's call.

So back again to where I was,
More frustrated now because
As I struggled to name the counterfeit,
It's namesake from my sandwich bit.

Tuesday, September 9, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: humor
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Sandra Conner

Sandra Conner

Illinois, U. S. A.
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