The F-Word

“F*ck!” I exclaimed, as my keyboard f*cked me, once more.

The “*” key, was f*cking me, again.

The keyboard was an expensive one, too, that cost me a f*ckton of hard-earned money.

It worked, sporadically, as I created my work, with words, as is my wont.

Work for me was something I enjoyed; I wo*ld work endlessly, for ho*rs, at my work.

*nless, I got l*cky and could simply f*ck around.