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Mystic Mona by Karen Robinson

On the glory-faded front of a southern coastal town

There’s a booth by the arcade,

which is close to falling down

It’s home to Mystic Mona,

a Romany - certified

She vanished several weeks ago

and most assumed she’d died

Truth is Mona’s nephew

is a clever techie chap

Who being up to date and that,

said “Aunt you need an app!

You shouldn’t freeze in booths

reading punter’s palms.

Try online predictions,

it won’t do any harm”

So Mona’s going digital

her future’s on the net

Nephew says it’s modern

and a step she won’t regret

He says she’ll make her fortune

by gazing into yours.

Cross her palm with Paypal,

and she’ll show you what’s in store

But Mona isn’t happy

She struggles with her aura

She thinks she lost her spirits

in the Windows 10 explorer

Her ESP’s in conflict

with her laptop’s CPU

With only random access

her memory‘s full up too

“Nephew was this really wise

I feel my talent’s lost?

They gave me fibre optic

but I think the lines were crossed

I’m channeling my broadband

but the hub is in denial

Calling BT makes me ill,

they say it must be viral”

“A tall dark engineer called

to give me some support

He couldn’t see my problem

Though I did get BT Sport.

I’m hazy on computers,

and although he talked me through

I’m not some sort of mind reader,

I didn’t have a clue”

Nephew raised an eyebrow

“Did you back up to the cloud”?

“I can’t upset the spirits dear,

that’s strictly not allowed

Nephew, I did not foresee

there’d be all this annoyance

I’m really not cut out at all

for digital clairvoyance

Mystic Mona had gone digital,

her presence was online

But cyber science mystified

poor Mona all the time

She’s bucking current trends

to take a daring punt

She’s sticking with tradition

and her booth down on the front

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