Bridal Shower

-
by George Bilgere


Perhaps, in a distant café,
four or five people are talking
with the four or five people
who are chatting on their cell phones this morning
in my favorite café.

And perhaps someone there,
someone like me, is watching them as they frown,
or smile, or shrug
at their invisible friends or lovers,
jabbing the air for emphasis.

And, like me, he misses the old days,
when talking to yourself
meant you were crazy,
back when being crazy was a big deal,
not just an acronym
or something you could take a pill for.

I liked it
when people who were talking to themselves
might actually have been talking to God
or an angel.
You respected people like that.

You didn't want to kill them,
as I want to kill the woman at the next table
with the little blue light on her ear
who has been telling the emptiness in front of her
about her daughter's bridal shower
in astonishing detail
for the past thirty minutes.

O person like me,
phoneless in your distant café,
I wish we could meet to discuss this,
and perhaps you would help me
murder this woman on her cell phone,

after which we could have a cup of coffee,
maybe a bagel, and talk to each other,
face to face.

Comments

  1. LydiaFebruary 25, 2009 at 3:25 AM

    Your post just popped into my Followers browser, and I thought man, she sure is up late tonight!

    Loved this poem! All that jabbing the air with blue lights on ears and talking loudly as if on stage...well, it makes me want to meet the poet per his plan. I have a "Go-phone" that I recharge every 90 days and I never use up what I've paid. I got it to take in the car and when I do remember to bring it along it usually has a dead battery. When it comes to cells I am the anti-techy.

    ReplyDelete
  2. RudeeFebruary 25, 2009 at 4:24 AM

    I remember the first person I saw who had a head phone in his ear. I thought he was completely crazy, talking to nobody, and making gestures while he did it. I don't recall if I was annoyed, amused, or irritated when I figured out what was going one. It still throws me. With my new job, it's me talking to people on my phone all the time. I hate it.

    ReplyDelete
  3. La FraméricaineFebruary 25, 2009 at 5:23 AM

    Thank you very much for the poem. I thought I was the only one who wanted to kill people who speak out loud to disembodied listeners about the most trivial aspects of their lives.

    I only got pay-as-you-go cellphones for my self and my husband after he had a heart attack, or was it prostate cancer. Either way, I'm with Lydia. I just carry mine around and plug it in every two days to recharge the battery that runs down due to its energy-hoggy nature.

    But, I have to admit, I am the woman who wears earplugs in department stores, waiting rooms, and libraries because I want to kill everyone who fills up the once-quiet-spaces with noise.

    This may be a more serious problem than I thought... If so, thank you for bringing it to my attention with poetry.

    ReplyDelete
  4. enar arshadFebruary 25, 2009 at 7:33 AM

    trying hard to remember how it was then before cell phone?

    ReplyDelete
  5. English RiderFebruary 25, 2009 at 2:17 PM

    Do you think it has something to do with people not enjoying their own company or being alone with their own thoughts?

    ReplyDelete
  6. debraFebruary 26, 2009 at 4:27 PM

    What is it about this culture that we cannot fathom being unreachable? What is it about us that we cannot live with the blessings of silence?
    I tire of hearing about the details of other people's lives. Today it was in the bathroom of an art museum.

    ReplyDelete
  7. AnonymousFebruary 26, 2009 at 8:49 PM

    I still don't have a cell phone, and may never have one...Once in San Francisco I saw a couple walking down the street together, both talking on their cell phones. How sad is that?

    ReplyDelete
  8. Brian MillerFebruary 28, 2009 at 9:41 AM

    lol. amazing post. people talking to themselves used to be fun, until the cell in the ear came around. annoying.

    ReplyDelete
  9. india flintFebruary 28, 2009 at 8:49 PM

    i too am thoroughly tired of those who loudly inflict their tedium on us all...but just occasionally find myself noting their ridiculous and forcibly overheard conversations for use in a future story...the walls have ears.

    ReplyDelete
  10. Action WolfeMarch 1, 2009 at 6:41 AM

    I'm young. Phones have always been just an object which is there. I can not remember a time when a member of my family has not had a mobile within our grasps.

    It's quite scary that we rely on it soo much.

    I sat having coffee the other day thinking the same thing... wanting to have a meeting with someone in the other cafe... there are so many people we can communicate with now a days - you don't even have to leave your house.

    ReplyDelete
  11. modyMarch 1, 2009 at 7:49 PM

    Thank you very much for the poem. I thought I was the only one who wanted to kill people who speak out loud to disembodied listeners about the most trivial aspects of their lives.

    I only got pay-as-you-go cellphones for my self and my husband after he had a heart attack, or was it prostate cancer. Either way, I'm with Lydia. I just carry mine around and plug it in every two days to recharge the battery that runs down due to its energy-hoggy nature.

    But, I have to admit, I am the woman who wears earplugs in department stores, waiting rooms, and libraries because I want to kill everyone who fills up the once-quiet-spaces with noise.

    This may be a more serious problem than I thought... If so, thank you for bringing it to my attention with poetry.

    ReplyDelete
  12. StoxsMarch 2, 2009 at 12:51 PM

    The first time I saw someone talking 'to himself' whilst walking along the road I got quite a start as I thought he was talking to me. I soon realised he wasn't as he rushed passed me and I saw the thing on his ear like an oversize hearing aid.

    ReplyDelete
  13. JewelsMarch 3, 2009 at 10:47 AM

    I can relate to this. I am the person phoneless in the other cafe, and would GLADLY murder the lady with the blue light in her ear, if it meant a few moments of peace and quiet. Harsh, but true.

    Love your blog btw. Thanks for sharing! Congrats on being Blog Of Note.

    ReplyDelete
  14. JulieMarch 4, 2009 at 12:31 AM

    Your poetry made me laugh. Well done I will have to read more posts. BTW, I came via blogs of note. Julie

    ReplyDelete
  15. KendieMarch 11, 2009 at 10:59 AM

    I love this poem! I heard recently on Writer's Almanac and I really enjoyed it! Great blog!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Hey, thanks for your thoughts and your time:>)

Popular posts from this blog

10 Things I Love That Start With the Letter E

-
Image
Game imported from Sweet Annie at Blissful Bohemian . Name ten things you love that begin with a specific letter. In my case, the letter E. So here goes: 1. Well, first of all there's elephants . Who doesn't love those cute little faces?? And what's not to love? Elephants are actually a lot like humans. They laugh and cry. They grieve over their dead. They play games with each other and have fantastic memories so they can even remember the rules and not go to bed mad. 2. Then there's Engelbert Humperdinck, who I don't actually love and his singing's just on this side of okay, but I do love his name. 3. I luuuuuuv eggs , deviled. Nothing fancy, just classic. Best Basic Deviled Eggs 6 eggs, hard cooked and peeled 1/4 cup mayonnaise 1 teaspoon yellow mustard 3/4 teaspoon white wine vinegar pinch of salt (optional) fresh ground black pepper (optional) smoked paprika (optional) Cut eggs in half. Arrange egg whites cut side up on a serving plate and put the yolks
Read more

The Poet Goes to Indiana by Mary Oliver

-
Image
I'll tell you a half-dozen things that happened to me in Indiana when I went that far west to teach. You tell me if it was worth it. I lived in the country with my dog— part of the bargain of coming. And there was a pond with fish from, I think, China. I felt them sometimes against my feet. Also, they crept out of the pond, along its edges, to eat the grass. I'm not lying. And I saw coyotes, two of them, at dawn, running over the seemingly unenclosed fields. And once a deer, but a buck, thick-necked, leaped into the road just-oh, I mean just, in front of my car— and we both made it home safe. And once the blacksmith came to care for the four horses, or the three horses that belonged to the owner of the house, and I bargained with him, if I could catch the fourth, he, too, would have hooves trimmed for the Indiana winter, and apples did it, and a rope over the neck did it, so I won something wonderful; and there was, one morning, an owl flying, oh pale angel, into the hay loft o
Read more

A Year with EB White

-
Image
"You have been my friend. That in itself is a tremendous thing. I wove my webs for you because I liked you. After all, what's a life, anyway? We're born, we live a little while, we die. A spider's life can't help being something of a mess, with all this trapping and eating flies. By helping you, perhaps I was trying to lift up my life a trifle. Heaven knows anyone's life can stand a little of that."----- from Charlotte's Web I am a soul always drawn and fascinated by the idea of " A Year of...". A Year of Rumi. A Year of Calvin and Hobbes. A year cooking with Julia Child. A project that provides guidance for the year and a ruler we can measure inward growth in the course of our circle around the sun. One year, after an early marriage and an unsurprising--except to me--early divorce, I came across a book by Sue Hubbell titled A Country Year. I didn't plan for it to take a year to read, but it did. I only read it at night before I went t
Read more