Smartphone
Nearer my godd to thee
oh smartphone
I walk the halls
of your great palace
with my head bowed
bumping into your believers
falling at the curbs
as you help me
towards death of brain cells
the last of my intelligence
approaches
as playful cats
and flop-earred doggies
assail my eyes at the edge
of chemical traffic signs
inside my skull
their dim assault
prepares me for the next
instant message
about the bosses' latest
design of stupidity
in search of the almighty
dollars leave my bank
as the latest useless
geegaws pile up
in dusty corners
may I truly be worthy
of the one use
I grace it with
now send me my underwear
so that under my pants
I can feel naughty
in deference to my misery
as I twist my ankle
missing a step
failing to grab the bar
as I hold you in my hand
securing my pack in the other
oh small glowing godd
pretend with me
that I shall win the lottery
as I select the six numbers
you insert into my thoughts
from the seventy or so
designated to guarantee
I steer my yacht
from this cubicle
this mental collapse
I so richly deserve
banging my knee
into the bumper of a taxi
of which you dear Lord
failed to notify me
as my worship of you
diminishes my field of view
may I forever sit with my dearest
as we search your bright horizons
with our coffee-trembling fingers
listening to your banalities
as we index punch you
in the star-bright face
in the hope you'll deliver
another life-altering message
of self-worthlessness
Barry G. Wick
Posts
