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Weathered
Cell Phone

Mel Waldman

Like zombies roaming mindlessly across the barren earth,
bereft and condemned by a voodoo curse, and possessed
by the Voodoo Priest,

dumb humans wander the streets, clutching toxic cell phones,
prisoners of surreal Super-Companies and Super-Sales-Freaks,
selling Orwellian truths and dreams.

��
Beware! We’re real creatures in 1984.
Big Brother is watching, listening, and
monitoring our compulsive movements,

aware of our interests, preferences, and
purchases, creating needs and selling us
mindless talk.

��
Now, face-to-face communication is almost obsolete.

Physical and psychological space are contaminated by
human beasts blasting cacophony into cell phones,
screaming in the streets at no one visible,

like antediluvian schizophrenics screeching in private
dreamscapes, and howling on trains, buses, and planes,
like coyotes in the wilderness.

��
What possessed humans to eat cell phones 24/7?
How did they become addictively attached to
these little machines?

1984 is here. Unconsciously, humans zoom across a dispassionate
highway, crashing their toy cars and smashing their skulls as they
drive toward Eternity, talking on the cell phone to someone-
not there.

Humans travel on the Super-Highway of Death and cell phones
are their lethal companions. Yet a few have escaped the
inevitable curse and consequences of the tiny monster.

Like Stephen King, I do not own a cell phone. Call me old-fashioned
or simply free.

What about you?



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