Ravenous Phone

While I wandered, meek and dreary, over many a vain and curious volume of online lore, suddenly there came a beeping, as of something online bleeping. . . some message beeping up at my phoney door, as of someone bleeping on my smarty phone but sounding like a phonish drone T'is some caller, I muttered, buzzing at my phony door, only this and nothing more. Pshaw! I get a bleep, just as I am tuned for sleep, but probably Cloudius, the Ai creep, blinking, winking, spamming at my phony door: only this and nothing more. some voice speaking in a dronish tone, bleeping on my smarty phone, droning to my apple core, only this and nothing more. . . like Kubrick's space oddyssey computer pal, spamming like a handheld Hal Here's a call. what comes next, looking like a spam. I have a phone; therefore I am. I'm Shmeegle glimpsing the golden glint in the stream, but having not a hint, clueless of this glassy machine even though I take it everywhere I go. So now I ponder; at last I'm napping: no more tapping on my phoney door. Yeah, I shut the phoney door; I flung it down upon the floor. (just kidding; maybe one day.) Now I lay me down to sleep; do not disturb me with your beep. Ask for me tomorrow and you will find me a phoneless man… if I can. oh oh . . .maybe not. You may think I'm just an ole baby boomer; but that is just a phoney rumor. But someday I'll fly away from this phoney world to my eternal home. 

Glass half-Full