I Phone

I know  that you’re out there
I know  that you are

The clawed hands of early ancestors
no longer create cutting stones
nor strike flame from flints
nor fashion arrowheads

Millenniums later
carefully manicured hands
hang poised above shining screens
as their restless fingers touch themselves to life

Sea levels rise
Terrorist dogmas thrive
Deadly viruses develop and mutate
New technologies evolve at a relentless rate

I know that you’re not out there
I know that you’re not

Why Phone?​​