The Photocopier Poem by C Richard Miles

The photocopier’s stopped again; it’s really not much use.
We’ll have to get another one, since it won’t reproduce
And even when it does, it’s slow and mucks up every copy.
If you want double-sided, you can sup ten cups of coffee
And fume and swear and rant and curse and utter words unkind
While it is merely warming up and making up its mind
As to when to jam and get stuff stuck, (which it really does a lot)
Usually a pesky paper scrap in an inaccessible spot!
It seems to have two settings: much too black and far too pale.
It does the opposite of what you want – Exactly, without fail!
I really shouldn’t groan and gripe and come across as a moaner,
Though, always when you’re in a rush, it’s running low on toner
But I’m sure we’d miss it if it went; I’m sure you’ll understand
Since it’d take us flipping ages to copy stuff out by hand!