Call Me On My Cell Phone

You are nothing but sound bites
As you spit words into cell phones on
Fluorescent trains hurtling through a
Cold black hole night in the suburbs of New Jersey
These blue pleather seats that have supported thousands
Of teenagers crying into microphones and
Drowning out the world in blank noise
The movements are silent but the metallic sheen
The camaraderie of one-sided conversations
Of looking into screens and smiling at the soft jokes
That hit the heart are all proof that
The progression is forward but who could say
To what degree we point our noses upward
Or downward into the warmth of an organic earth
Still in spite of ourselves

Author: Erica V.

Always seriously joking and rambunctiously soft-spoken.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s