rotary phone

like some sweet casino game

they drilled holes in a disk

attached to your face

buxom and heavy

enough i could defend my life

by you. crack some bastard

in the skull. curled

umbilical cord wrapped around

the body. receiver gripped cold

dial zero for an operator

will talk you down

until help arrives

#katyamills

what was life

what was life before our devices?

the lucky ones have no phones

the lucky ones

our technology was killing us a little bit each day, and the lucky ones had no phones. i saw a lone wolf pay phone in the city outside a restaurant by a busy intersection. remember how we used to get on then off these phones? you dropped a quarter in and set the world aside for a few minutes. when you hung the receiver up there was a chime, the change fell and you could scoop it out with one finger into your palm. look up and the world was right there for you, confrontation, and you wanted to face everything. you were in it! we didn’t know any different back then. we were the lucky ones. i wanna be lucky like that again. i’m gonna keep this crap phone and this crap service as long as i possibly can, until i’m so sick of it i won’t ever pick it up unless you need me.

beleaguered. conversations with a cell phone

beleaguered in the cold

Cell phone go to sleep I do not wish to hear you chirp, you are not the bird in the walnut tree singing the lovely song, no, you are not soft of down and sweet, no, you can be taken apart and reconstituted – you lack the mysterious quality. You are priced, bought and sold! Is this not true? You cannot live, you cannot die, you cannot fly. Cell phone be quiet, please, I have exhausted all your peculiar tonalities and wish only to be left alone. A parcel of time I have allotted to address any and all of those concerns of which you lobby. My associates, collaborateurs, family and friends, all shall have their due, I need not hear it from you. Silence! my dear, for out of silence shall come a storm of swirling letters into words amount to the tale which lies concealed, beleaguered in the cold, and must be lifted up from certain death to be told!      — KatYa —

making love. to a cell

everybodys in another galaxy

these days

touchtone crazy

going mobile

making love to their

cells