Wednesday, December 10, 2014

The Dime of the Ancient Mariner

All inside a glass and metal box,
Like a rectangular basket,
Right up above the concrete floor,
Dimensions like a casket.

Days gone past, days gone past,
A man could make a phone call;
Drop his finger in the dial
He could talk to one and all.

Cell phones, cell phones, every where,
Replaced the booths, now strange;
Cell phones, cell phones, every where,
Now where does Superman change?