Disturbed
There is no peace or quiet
Now that cell phones do abound.
It’s rare to find a place to sit
Where voices don’t resound.
Entire conversations,
Which were private long ago,
Make me privy to more info
Than I’d really like to know.
From discussions with a rabbi
To a chat with an M.D.,
Every detail’s in the open,
With no heed for you or me.
So I sit here by the river
And remember back to when
I could read a page and have no need
To read it all again.
But when cell phone calls are blaring,
Concentration bites the dust
And what I’d hoped to accomplish
Is, annoyingly, a bust.
Yet I bite my lip in silence
As I try to stay above it,
‘Cause what I would like to say is,
“Kindly take that phone and shove it!”
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