The idea for a poem emerged after Dram_man cleverly reworked a comment I'd made over at the Nomad's. I had written, in response to the Nomad's post on cell phone text messaging addiction, "Hence the No Fucking Cell Phones Rule in my classes."
In that same comment thread, Dram_man shot back with, "You won't let them fuck phones in class?"
And BOOM-- just like that: a few haiku crawled out of my ass.
Samsung everywhere
even in my woman's crotch
"vibrate" makes her wet
once you go Samsung
there's no going back, they say
ask my ex-lover
phoning my main squeeze
she picks up, but doesn't speak
then... a yeasty smell
"Fuck the phone!" I cry
"Excellent idea," she says
as she spreads her thighs
"So, tell me," I ask
"What's it like to fuck a phone?"
"Please hold," she replies
_
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