If your iPhone doesn’t Ring it’s Me
If your iPhone doesn’t ring, it's probably me
the woman you reeled in with budget wine
whose ring now drifts in the Aegean Sea.
I patched our fights, pretended we were fine
debugged your tantrums, traced each broken thread
marked you as spam, then clicked "decline."
Now I date a fashion czar; he’s well-bred
no blame, no dashboards, no hints to heed
with fewer flaws than the one I once wed.
He rides a Jaguar and floors the speed
wine chilled via app, lights synced to my mood
just check my Instagram -- don't bother with my feed.
While you audited my taste, my size, my food
I toast to me with chilled champagne — five-star
reviewed.
Angela Segredaki
If you have any thoughts
about this poem, Angela
Segredaki would like to hear them.
