I hadn't seen my friend for years – he dropped in the other day,
The memories came floating back – I had a lot to say:
But I couldn't get a word in – I was really on my own,
My friend suffered an addiction – he had a mobile 'phone!
He was scarcely in the house at all, his coat was hardly hung
When he was grabbing for his pocket – that wretched thing had rung!
"Oh. Good to hear from you," he said, as he reclined in a nice chair:
I sat and waited patiently – I thought I would despair
Of having our reunion – for he talked at some great length.
I began to tap my fingers – running out of patience' strength –
I wanted to catch up on years since we were mates at school:
Our triumphs on the footy field, our victories in the pool.
At last the 'phone call ended. I said "How about a beer ..."
And headed for the 'fridge', but he didn't even hear
My cordial invitation to relax and quench our thirst –
He was reaching for that thing again: his telephone came first!
"Hang on a minute, mate," he said, "I need to make a call":
And I began to wonder why he'd dropped in at all.
Was he really pleased to see me after all the years since school?
I leaned against the old 'fridge' door, and stood there like a fool
Feeling I was left right out, someone who didn't matter –
Unconnected with the world and all its vital chatter.
"Sorry about that," he said, and took his beer, and then
We didn't get a chance to talk – the darned thing rang again!
He stayed about an hour, and then he had to go
How his life had gone these years I really didn't know –
I hoped he wasn't married – his wife must live alone
For he'd said: "'till death do part us" to that confounded mobile 'phone!
Father John W. Ó Néill, 5 Sept 2012