Let me tell you a story
Of a man on a phone
He walked down the street
By himself all alone
With head dropped so forward
His arms up to grip
The object – his smart phone
Lest dare it might slip
His eyes were affixed
His gaze held quite true
As he opened his apps
And his messages too
He scrolled down through Facebook
And posted a tweet
All along as he walked
With his phone down the street
And not once it is said
Did he look where he trod
The man on a mission
With a steady plod plod
And then he arrived
At a curbside by road
And stepped off the pavement
Not changing his mode
He walked out not looking
And then with a bang
With a crash and collision
His phone left to hang
Left to hang from his body
Blood pouring from head
The man on his phone
His status: “I’m dead”

Even when it’s bitter cold, New Yorkers like to tap away on their iPads (Photo credit: Ed Yourdon)