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On a Crowded Bus

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On a Crowded Bus

On a crowded bus I watch
A tide of texting thumbs.
No one young’s immune – 
It seems that everyone succumbs.

Older folk read papers
Or a magazine or book;
Many simply close their eyes
Or wear a vacant look.

Younger people can’t survive
Without their techno-tools.
Losing them, I fear, would make them
Flail like helpless fools.

Somehow, in the days of old,
Pre-smartphone, way back when,
We occupied ourselves with books
Or paper and a pen.

Or, even better, we could sit
And think or dream or muse;
Trying to explain that now,
I think, would just confuse.

I once was taught that human thumbs
Made us the better beast,
But watching all those texters,
All my admiration’s ceased.

Copyright © ilene bauer

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  1. Date: 10/12/2013 6:18:00 AM
    Great poem. Your poems are such gems. Love your last lines. Very witty. Great write.

  1. Date: 10/11/2013 7:31:00 PM
    Don't look at me. Ok, your not. I think that you have just forgot. That there's someone else sitting right here. Why don't you take that phone out your ear. Or stick it in your ear. :):):) Peace. :)