Cell-fie

I woke up to a sound in my bathroom,

A faint “Scrape scrape, swoosh swoosh boom”

Shaking the dinosaurs out of my head,

I stumbled towards the hall with the grace of the dead.

Opened the door and took a look inside,

I saw my cellphone, it didn’t hide.

It was standing or sitting, whatever’s the verb,

In front of the mirror, on the sink curb.

I asked it why, in the middle of the night,

Was it here, in the bright light?

“I am trying to find love that agrees with me,

I’m, for Phonder, taking a cell-fie.”

Oh well, I said, try to be quiet,

I’m going back to dive all the way to Guyot.

Yawing the yawn of a Jotun or Titan,

I hear a “Ch ch” sound, as the lenses tighten.

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