That there device, I hear it's nice,
And yet I crave it less than lice.

It may not be a piece of crap
But I don't want it on my lap.

It may upend the universe
But I won't tote it in my purse.

It may be swell, but here's the rub
I will not take it in the tub.

And yes, I'd rather drop down dead
Than bring a gadget to my bed.

Object of such abject covet—
iPad? No, I do not love it.

I'm a paper person, see.
Go—roll your eyes, bemoan the tree.

Paper's passé but here's the deal:
I love its soft yet grainy feel

No...