It seems such an innocent 
Picking-up-of-the-phone 

A moment of boredom 
Fleed from - 

The first video watched 
Then a second 

Then the endless stream 
Of promises never kept -

Searching mind 
Looking for the end of a rainbow. 

To disengage 
Is like tearing our sticky eyes 

From the screen’s magnetic touch 
As we pop back into the real world,

Shocked at how far we fell 
Under its influence. 

Someone conceived
This hand-held drug,

Intended the capture  
Of the mind,

Wished the restless hand 
Fidget for the scrolling picture

Which feeds on emptiness 
And delivers more of the same. 

Casually, we’d say
What’s the harm in it?

And yet all of us know 
That half the walking world 

Are caught in the phone, 
And scare even look where they go.

It’s as if an evil hypnotist 
Had created a magic device

Into which he bid us all look,
Yet, hid the dire cost;

His corporate wish 
To enslave us to his corporate tool 

And make us forget 
The route home, 

Calling us to climb into our phones 
And never look back. 

Forget your bodies, he says, 
You no longer need them.