Oh!

The siren song of the cell phone,

that most seductive call in the unnatural world.

No longer a ringing like church bells.

Rather a series of computer-tones

I had something to do with, I confess.

(I didn’t create it, but I did choose it

from a techno-compilation of semi-melodies.)

And now,

even though I know nine times out of ten,

the entity “…at the other end of the line…”

(another anachronism from a more humane past),

is not calling me, really…

ME, a real person IT really wants to gossip with,

but rather some revolving, numerical account from which it aims

to make a withdrawal

or to add-too by loaning me an enormous sum of money

I secretly desire but certainly don’t need,

at some exorbitant interest rate,

the only “interest” it has in me

during this closely monitored communication episode

no greater than 39 seconds long…

But! Yes!!! Even so!!!

I struggle against the sensual allure of

“The Call”

and my automatic responding impulse

to slide my phone out from its safety-zippered-slippery-but-secure-section

of its slung-over-my-shoulder-3-pocketed-holster

(that, yes! I bought on line!)

To say “Hello!”,

thereby automatically initiating a sparkling-voiced recording

of a cherrie, just graduated co-ed named Alice,

informing me of my just recently arrived approval

for the financial opportunity of a life-time

to once again make myself

“another day older and deeper in debt”!

For they have fooled me into believing

their boon is entirely for my benefit,

out of the goodness of their hearts…

And God Forbid I answer any question,

(Mr. Greenman? Can you hear me?)

with the word “Yes.”

Instead of my much rehearsed, gruff, “What?”

which shocks the hell out of my poor sister

standing in her Vermont dairy-farm-kitchen

whenever she innocently calls me…

For if I say “Yes…”

they’ve got me on record

agreeing to buy whatever they’re shilling…

But even then

my soul craves that mystical, interpersonal anointing.

For supposedly, someone has chosen to call

ME!

So,

I must learn to scream down into that

lusting lizard portion of my brain,

“Don’t!

Don’t do it!!

Don’t pick up that phone or push that button!!!

Make them leave a message.”

Then enjoy the satisfaction

of erasing the “POSSIBLE SCAM”

from that crowded, missed-call list.

Make them spend their dime, uselessly,

while hitting the #7 button on that screen

and watch them evaporate into Wi-Fi oblivion…

For even a tiny, single, gleeful victory

is Manna for the Luddite in my soul!