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!”