It singes my teeth.

My ears feel

Buzzed

My eyes are

Draining

Of gelatinous white fluid

My nose is

Filled with

Acrid, argumentative chrome

That fights so valiantly

Against the hissing

Hot

Breath

Of the computer.

But I have to do it.

I have to clickety clack

On the sticky icky keyboard

Typing away an email

To IT services