the frig blig

On the Metro 7 standing room only
headed west on Jackson –
is that my cellphone ringing in my pocket?
I hate it when I hallucinate getting phone calls.
I hate it hearing that darn ringtone in my head all day
like a bad song on the radio taking up permanent airplay in my head
until it’s dislodged by the next one…
But oh! The unmistakable piercing tone (broop!) of a voice message –
yikes, I missed three calls on that bus.
I am somebody!

This entry was posted on Friday, March 6th, 2009 at 2:55 pm and is filed under artsy, general. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.