POEM: A missing chip and a t stick plan

a missing chip and a t stick plan

I bought a T-stick with one gig of data,

spun wheels on YouTube, ran out of time.

Went back to the shop to top it up …


What’s your T-stick number, ma’am? …

That’s the 40-digit number on the side of the box …

Oh, you threw away the box?


What’s your mobile number, ma’am?   User name?    

Password?    Mother’s maiden name?     

Date of birth?  …   No ma’am, yours.


You have a choice of six plans ma’am:  

light    surfer plus     casual day rate  …  

The simplest?   That depends on how much you use.


You get three gigs for $40 but if you go over within a month

you pay a dollar a day   …    and you can join 

our friendly-user programme… by the way, some conditions apply.


And you need to monitor when you’re about to run out.

I’ve run out already 

and I don’t mean of gigs. 


How?   Well it’s, like, real easy –

you log in to our website,

enter your T-stick number  …


that’s the number

on the box you bought it in…

oh, yeah, you binned it… 


You take the SIM card out of your T-stick,    put that in your phone;

you get a text from gigafone with an 18-digit code,     type that

into the web-page,    put the SIM card back in your stick,     complete all the fields ...


Do that while you’re here?  Um, no ma’am, our website’s down …

I dunno, we’re not sure what the problem is …

Yep, unbelievable headaches, believe me …

I believe him. Shouting is not a valid entry

and I can’t hang him up

so I press my temples for further options.


Give me the sky’s open page and a pen to write love poems;

give me your warm body    the earth    trees    and good water.

Let's sit together, without a T-stick, laptop,


mobile, iPad, iPod in sight;

let’s sit in the emptying night

with nothing but our feeling bodies


to see what plan unfolds.