Mindless cell phone babblers irk me to death
Raising serious questions about technology’s role in our evolution
They bark, hiss, snark and cackle
In otherwise quiet city parks at noontime
Where gifted bird quartets sing spring into existence

Miraculously, you even find these nefarious twits
Along serene country brooks
The kind running the edge of remote pastures
Where halcyon cows wordlessly eat grass
Some days as much as twenty-five pounds
And whose digestion will surely suffer
Hearing the tinny voices of these squawking heads

Don’t get me wrong–
I own a cell phone
And use it when necessary
But never while sitting on the commode
At Chicago O’Hare Airport
One of few places
Where travelers can quietly enjoy the company of their own farts