Just now,
during moments in the lavatory,
I thought:
"****! I don't have my phone!
If someone tries to contact me,
they may think I'm ignoring them!"
Wow.
**** that.
Can't I just take a ****
without such thoughts?
(People had it so easy
once upon a time.
And we call ourselves
so ******* advanced)
More poignantly:
what the **** have we allowed
or forced ourselves to become
as a culture of Science-
but more frighteningly:
as the Shaman-Sentinels of Mother Earth?
I'm gonna take
a long-*** walk
with my lovely dog
this fine dusk,
and I'm not bringing
that ******* phone.
Maybe I'll bring a camera
and a pen and sketchbook.
That's just ******* ridiculous.
We must all,
for the sake of Sanity,
remember to
turn the *******
and tune the **** out
from time to time;
or, conversely,
to turn the **** on
and tune the **** in
from time to time.
This habitual cancer
isn't ******* benign:
I hope I caught it early enough.
Moreover, I didn't have any paper
but I did have a calligraphy pen,
so I wrote this on a page
of Interior Design.
I hope the humour is seen,
as well as the irony of me typing this to share it online;
though it is neck-deep in a ****** truth.
Speaking of the *******,
Where the **** have I left it?