THE PHONIES

            THE PHONIES

Beware the phonies, they’re everywhere;

The planet is theirs – they even own the air.

The cellphone screen is their favourite place,

Anything rather than look you in the face.

 

Their talents are unique, they stretch so far,

They can even type text while driving a car.

Never expect their immediate attention,

When the phone’s turned on, real life’s in suspension.

 

Beware the phonies when they do their shopping,

As they reach the till there’s no sign of stopping;

They chatter and google in a world of their own,

Even the cashier has to wait for the phone.

 

Look out for the phonies as they invade the street,

Should you ever be unfortunate enough to meet

A Samsung Galaxy by a phony being used,

Expect to be trampled not politely excused.

 

A boss I know often interviewed by text,

When the interview ended, he just typed in ‘Next’;

He thought he was clever, much quicker of course

Till one of his rejects typed back ‘Up yours’.

 

You can see the phonies in café and pub,

They’d rather check messages than enjoy their grub;

To keep it secret, under the table they hide

Or are they playing with themselves, it’s hard to decide.

 

Beware the phonies they’re taking over the world,

Virtual life over the real thing’s preferred;

At the end of their days when they’re buried in the ground

The phone will ring in the pocket of their shroud. mobile phoners


© Alan Combes, 2017. All Rights Reserved

Alan Combes