Walking with friends, anti-social
phone clamped to your head,
radiation tumouring your brain.
The school-roof phone mast
electrosmogs the pupils
with headaches, insomnia, memory loss.
Mining coltan in the Congo
modern day slaves
(who will never see a mobile phone)
are forced to sacrifice gorillas
on the altar
of an alien god.
I'm reposting this poem from the earlier days of this blog, to coincide with the publication on Bolts of Silk of Cell Phone Mania by Michael Lee Johnson. I have never owned a mobile phone.