poem of the day 08.06.13

poem for the girl in the purple mini

who thinks that i stole her phone

now you know for a fact

that we checked through your books twice

i even removed the return bin

scanned the floor

and found only a few dead ants

and, all right, when the office door slammed shut

and i made that joke

about you being trapped in here forever

well, even that wasn’t really in poor taste

it certainly wasn’t worth your ire

but i didn’t steal your cell phone

so please stop glaring at me

while i’m trying to do my job

the a.c. is broken and it’s like a swamp in here

i’m famous for my short fuse in the heat

so i don’t have time for some fourteen year-old kid

in a purple mini dress giving me the evil eye

while i sweat my ass off

give your evil eye to the boys playing video games

i didn’t take your phone, kid

no matter how high tech you told me it was

if it’s so high tech let it find you

i don’t even want a cell phone

yours or anyone else’s

i hate those things

i have poems and blog posts dedicated to my revulsion

if i have it my way i’ll be the last man in the world

without a cell phone

happily

and that goes for e-readers and gps

and all of that other horseshit that you fucking aliens need

just to walk down the street now

maybe i’m the alien

i swear i got sucked into a multiverse

around 2003 or 2004

and now i’m stuck with all of you thumb-tapping morons

you know what, kid?

you probably left your cell phone at home

or on the subway

you kids are always leaving shit

you’d walk out of the house without your heads

if they weren’t screwed on tight

some five year-old on the 7 train is probably half-way to queens

playing games on your phone

or some thug is deleting all of your shit

and making it his

but it wasn’t me, girly girl

i just work here

and i’ve grown fond of keeping a roof over my head

so i’m not risking this job

for some fucking phone that can track my every move

my advice to you next time

is to wear some pants with pockets

or carry a bag

you’re too young to be wearing a purple mini skirt anyway

i mean who let you out of the house like that?

your parents?

if i had a cell phone i’d give them a call right now

and tell them to come pick you

but, like i said, i don’t have a cell phone

and now you don’t have a cell phone

so let me be the first person

to welcome you to 1984, kid

where we made it just fine

without all of that bells and gadget shit

where the only surveillance comes from

a george orwell novel

a kindler, simpler time

with a president who’s still more an actor

than he thinks

and everyone keeps asking

where’s the beef?