Olive skin, a well shaped face,
hair like rivers in the sun
with her eyes full of wisdom,
dark like charcoal, sparked with fun -
that's how I imagine Kazia,
when I phone the AOL helpline
and I hear her voice from India
cheerfully to answer mine.
My computer, when I log on,
has become a stubborn mule,
not a stallion to rush head on
but an awkward useless tool.
Kazia promises hope,
but her voice runs fast and faster
and her accent spells disaster.
Do I get it? Will I cope?
Slowly, she repeats suggestions,
tells me to replug a wire
and I follow her desire
to correctly answer questions.
I restore AOL's connection,
I repair AOL's dissection
I log on after corrections
but resign with new infections.
Shall I phone the lovely Kazia?
Her advice comes dear to me:
I pay 50 p per minute
for her Indian sunshine laughter,
for her voice of ebony.
