This sonnet isn’t *supposed* to make sense

when trucks shred Thursdays
the office talk often escalates
especially when I type my desk into subservience

I swill my phone drink
and input my java beans into
my calculator drive

I consider the destination of my email
and dispatch my printer to watch over
my steaming paperclips

reminding me that
my paper load is most reluctant
to expostulate

the afternoon sun blazes most slowly
as I grab my slingshot…

~~

for dVerse, where we are “connecting the dots” (click the link for details). I don’t typically write “flarf” poetry, but I am actually quite pleased with this one…

Unplugged

the inventor of the time machine,
Jonathon Raypel
Thought that it would be just grand
to meet one Alex Bell

he set the dials on his box
"one-eight-seven-seven"
he'd have some real amazing talks
surely t'would be heaven!

when mister Bell he fin'ly met
he said, "let's take a ride"
it only took a few moments
to coax his guest inside

"two-oh-one-three" is where they cruised
Alex wanted to see
if his invention still was used
his face was filled with glee

when they got there thru' time afar
A. Bell was horrified
two cell-talkers were driving cars
and he watched them collide

the boys and girls he saw walk by
all had their heads downcast
as they sent texts, it made Bell cry
this result of his past

Jon asked "did you imagine this
when you made your first phone?"
"Certainly Not!  It's ludicrous!
Enough! Please take me home"

surprised by Alexanders's rage
Raypel took his guest back
"must be culture shock of the age
that brought on that attack"

he'd seen enough time's shifting sand
and stepped back in his room
he calmly grabbed a hammer and
his phone smashed with a boom

The future will be better, yeah
without abilities
to speak with those so far away
'cuz they're naught but zombies.

~~

Written for dVerse
I actually wrote this for the "unplugged" challenge, but was too late to submit my link, so it was suggested to me that I submit for open link night.  Hope you enjoy!

Thorson Thorkelson The Thord ~ Part 32

Thorson took the cordless phone from his mom and said, “Hello?”

He had no idea who would be calling him so late, but he was completely unprepared to hear her voice on the other end.  In the entire time that they had known each other, their communication had been limited to Skype, twitter, and facebook.  They had never called or even texted each other (primarily because Thorson was one of the few people on the planet who did not have a cell-phone).  Besides, with Raphael in the picture now, Thorson figured that Bertha would never talk to him again.  He wasn’t sure that he wanted to talk to her at the moment, but he was too polite to hang up on her.

Bertha said, “I’ve been trying to contact you on Skype, but you must have been away from your computer.”

“Yeah, I was listening to music.”  Thorson had been using the computer earlier, but had shut it off about an hour ago and was listening to some of the Raffi CD’s that his mom had found for him.  “How was your date?”  He hadn’t meant for the last word to come out so venomously, but he wasn’t able to quite suppress the sarcastic tone from his voice.  Fortunately, Bertha didn’t seem to notice.

“Thord, I just wanted to say I’m sorry.  I had a horrible time on my date…I couldn’t stop thinking about you.  Raphael is a nice enough guy, but the entire time, all I could think was, ‘I wish that Raphael was you.‘  You asked me the other day if I would be your girlfriend.  I’m not sure that I’m ready, quite yet, to say yes to that, but I’m willing to consider it…if the offer is still on the table…I certainly don’t want to be anyone else’s girlfriend right now, as apparently thoughts about you aren’t going to leave me alone.”  Thorson could almost hear the corners of Bertha’s mouth turn up at the end of her last comment.

Thorson wasn’t sure what to think about Bertha not being his girlfriend yet, but he was elated that she wasn’t going to be someone else’s girlfriend either.  There was hope!  He tried to think of something to say, but Bertha wasn’t quite done talking yet.

“It was actually Raphael that told me I should call you tonight.  He seemed to notice that I wasn’t having much fun, and when he asked me what the trouble was, I tried to avoid the subject, but he kept on it until I finally told him about you.  He said, ‘Bertha, I like you a lot, but I’m not the kind of guy who steals someone else’s girl.  I’ll be content if we can be friends.’  That helped ease the tension, and he rode with me on the bus to the stop closest to my place.  Just before the bus came to a stop, he said, ‘Thorson’s a lucky guy.  I hope I can meet him sometime.'”

Thorson and Bertha talked until Thorson’s mom knocked on his door and said, “You really should get to bed soon, it’s after 1 a.m.”

Before they said goodbye, Thorson asked how she had found his phone number, as he had never given it to her.

“I figured that there couldn’t be too many ‘The Thirds’ in Saskatchewan…turns out you’re the only ones!”

They hung up, and Thorson went to bed.  Happy.  Apparently Raphael wasn’t such a bad guy after-all!

~~to be continued~~