Brian McCludget,
Young man of the world,
Into the river,
His cellphone had hurled.
Fed up,
With being in touch all the time.
Texting, e-mailing,
Were no longer sublime.
All that he wanted,
Some peace and quiet,
Now all the voicemail,
Was off of the diet.
But away from the calling,
He could not get.
With his landline caterwauling,
His nerves were upset.
And so his solution,
Which is not for all,
Was become a recluse,
Hide behind a wall!
• All poems written by J R A Gigney unless stated.
