the first words to leave my lips were...
'fuckin nggrrrrr!'
my phone had fallen
into the gutter
on the ride to work
heavy rain
covered my skin
thought to save my technology, my tool
on the ride to work
five minutes had passed.
Approaching turnham green tube,
to avoid being a fool,
broke the number one urban cyclists rule
-
I stopped at a red light.
I removed smart phone from drenched shorts pocket
quickly transferred to waterproof jacket
light is red, oh no shit now it's green!
With earfuls of music I accelerated on.
Ten minutes later, I reached acton town.
I'd been staring at the gutter the whole time.
Felt like the morning I lost the pen she gave me,
looking into the murky puddles for something which was not there.
Eventually,
the cogs clicked.
I tapped my pocket,
utterred aforementioned unspeakables
then turned around
and headed home bound.
I got
to the spot.
It must still be here!
Is that a glimmer
of silver?
Is the handset there?
The hub through which my entire life passes?
No.
It's gone.
I attempt to reassure myself.
Remind myself
that the eccentricities of it's opera web browser annoyed the crap out of me.
My attempt to save it
destroyed it
no longer mine
probs not anyones.
yet to pay
the cost
to replace it.
doph Nov 2009