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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required We carry our phones now. We call them I-phones. Not sure if this is because we are Internet-aware Or simply I’s instead of We’s now. It’s time to exchange mine for a newer model; Happens every two years. How many contacts do you have? They ask me as The upload of phone numbers begins. I am horrified Later to see it has uploaded all of my Facebook friends. Friends? I barely know these people. Barely is a giant stretch. At her heyday, I had 1800 Facebook friends. Over three hundred of these have been angrily deleted. Perhaps this is why I don’t murder in real life. I get the same satisfaction by merely pressing the delete key, Sending offender into oblivion. I have become swift, and ruthless. Pressing the un-friend button when things enrage me. Little things like…. Posting my weight. Posting a photo of me trying to push my stomach fat into skinny pants, Posting photos of animals who have been tortured or defiled. Photos of KNOWN pedophiles (KP). Known to whom? More often than not, I don’t even know the friend of a friend of a friend of a friend who first Posted the so-called KP ‘s photo. I was considering un-friending One facebook contact who had been posting Photos of KPs every eleven and a half minutes When she was awake. The trouble is, She did not know them, And neither did hundreds of others who re-posted his photo. I had my finger on the Un-friend button one day After seeing 22 of her latest KP photos, when I glanced Down and my brain made me read some of the words. Many people were threatening her with libel On her Facebook page. Some of these so-called KP photos were popped onto Facebook by ignorant, thoughtless, un-caring people who Thought it would be funny. Funny? FUNNY? F U N N Y ? One put his neighbor up as a pedophile Because he was angry the guy put his garbage out two hours early. Yes, country folks, in the city, there are rules about how long garbage can be out there. I used to forget to push the un-follow button too, I am more cognizant now. Thinking about how crazy we have become as A society on Facebook, with I-phones, and with General indifference for each other, I was pondering throwing away my phone When I remembered with a jolt That this little rectangle Cost me fifteen times what my first automobile cost, So I decided to review my thinking. How could I use this little rectangle for good? I began scrolling through my contact list, Waiting for inspiration Words often do that for me. And after all, aren’t names words? I could feel my face smiling as I reviewed my peeps. I started remembering the fun times I’ve had With the ones I recognized. Most of them co-workers. Man, did we have some fun times! We used to play together daily. Stories started saturating my brain. Stories about how I had adored so many of these people Who have now become a two word line in my I-phone. Story after story popped into my head As I scrolled through my I-phone last night. One March my husband was asking about W-2s. Crap! I think they were handed to me a couple of months ago. My co-worker, Karla saw me tearing my office apart. She immediately jumped on board, and began rummaging through my extended piles Which had somehow started in the anteroom I was supposed To be sharing with another teacher, but wasn’t. Twenty minutes later Karla plunked the W-2s down In front of me and a pile of clothes I had been searching through. Don’t laugh; I found a half eaten cinnamon roll that was still good. I hugged her. Where did you find them? In between the three hundred and ten Fire prevention posters out in the anteroom. Why had she even looked there? Because I know you, she said. On a whim I sent a little text to eight co-workers. Some I had not seen or heard from in over twenty-five years. I love you, I texted them, and no, I’m not dying, but thank you for asking. Within six minutes five of them had texted me back. Such good feelings flooded my being as I read each text. One made me laugh. We had not forgotten each other. At this rate, in eleven months, if I contact five Contacts each night, I could get through them all. But why would I want to? I don’t even KNOW these people!
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