Decline and Fall of Oral Skills
On a Surfliner going north on a
Select status retention quest
Packed in like sardines but not in
flat tins
Cylinders on wheels swaying back and
forth with no room to slosh
No oil, no water, no mustard sauce
No seats save mine that had an ungodly
smell
With three others knees to knees
eyes bent down
No romantic clickety clacks only
fingers and thumbs racing across cell phone keys
Robot faces devoid of emotion trying
to put more characters on their screen
Only faces smile, frown, laugh or
shed tears-- fingers and thumbs can only press
The four texters across the aisle were
like those infected by the body snatchers
Bland without emotions, a Bermuda
Triangle of feelings, thousand yard stare
Not sure which one of the texters
first spoke but think it was an attractive blonde
In a blink, all were in
conversation, laughter and animated emotions coming out of the shell
Or better yet molting to grow
But like the eye of a hurricane that
brings relief
Conversation soon came to an end,
animation stilled and eyes returned to the screen
No wonder parents knowing the texting
addiction of kids try it to wean
© April 20, 2017 Michael P. Ridley
the Alaskanpoet
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