Travelers Welcome

Travelers Welcome

Saturday, July 10, 2010


by G. Tod Slone

Everywhere I go
phoneheads appear
as if out of nowhere.

“What was the number?”
says a phonehead.
“Who knows and who cares?”
I respond.
"What was the number again?”
he says.
“Who gives a shit what it was!”
I say. “Move your goddamn
conversation away from me!
I don’t need it; I don’t want it!”
He looks over at me, snickers,
then actually moves the yap
down the aisle of the bookstore
for someone else to enjoy.

Phoneheads everywhere I go,
I can’t defeat them,
they’re all over the goddamn place.
Jabber, jabber, and more jabber.

1 comment:

  1. I love a poet who gets as pissed off as I do. Too right, phoneheads jabber jabbering; next time I hear them I'll think of this poem, and laugh at them.