Cellular Cancer

A ranting poem about cell phone- and technology-obsessed people for yearn for something else, and the apathy for earth that stirs up a problem.

I wrote this when I was procrastinating on studying for a Spanish exam, sheepish smile. I didn't look up the science that goes along with it (that would have taken my procrastination too far) so please take all the science of it with a large pinch of salt. I was just fed up with people who were so fed up with being constantly reachable and unable to get away, and how that just seems to be the case these days with everyone having an arse-phone (mobile phone). I know too many people who just want to get away sometimes but won't put the effort in or just can't, or don't think they can. Mixed it in with some of the worldly affects this shift in priority to technology has partially caused.

Too lazy to italicize the two words that were. Another sheepish smile.

Picture credit to Martin Barraud.

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Attention all you news reporters:
Here's some news I thought that you should know.
Your smiling faces give the Daily Drama
But after 5 o'clock or 10 o'clock you go...

And pick up your handy hand-held fixes;
Hate your job 'cause of co-work b*****s;
Talk for hours of a life unloved;
And dream about a life unplugged.

Well enjoy your cellular cancer, ladies.
You report our news and feed your babies.
You tune on out as the trouble begins
And pretend it's null as life unspins.

We're all plugged into this wireless world
Where our hair is frazzled and our fingers curled.
We hate our jobs and our friends are hassles,
Yet we talk for hours 'bout vexing rascals.

We'll keep our cellular cancer, lad,
'Cuase we're all completely tart and mad.
We'll take our newly deafened ears
And feast our eyes on brand new fears.

We tap those digits like we tap our glasses
When that sole good news surprises our asses.
�Send� our souls to two-way calls
In parking lots and city-sized malls.

We'll buy our cellular cancer, salesman,
'cause that silence, man, we're not a fan!
30 a month and endless texts
So we can gossip 'bout what comes next.

Our car phones, now they have evolved
From fixes to get our crashes solved.
Can't withdraw these new tech beings,
Captured by what once was freeing.

We'll catch our cellular cancer, mother,
Multitasking one task 'stead of another.
Can't stop rhythm in our busy days
While our eyes, they cry, and our spirit frays.

It's cellular cells vs. technology chips,
And we just giggle as our DNA rips.
Can't just turn and pause it all
To admire warm nights and colors of fall.

We'll have our cellular cancer, nature;
We can't avoid it, that's for sure.
We've buggered our planet mighty fine;
Now we can't mend this mutated subline.

Cellular cancer, oh yes please!
It's for you, and it's for me--
Hey, for the whole community!
Cellular cancer, cellular cancer, it's nearly free!

So yes, for our true news
Perhaps we might try
To state not just the problem,
Nor a censured lie.
Let's give this a cause,
And one we can rally.
The truth of it is,
We unbalanced this tally.
We invented our cellular cancer, Gaia,
And I'm not sittin' round for an environmental messiah.