POEM: A missing chip and a t stick plan

a missing chip and a t stick plan

I bought a T-stick with a giggle of data,
spun wheels on You-tube, ran clean out of time;
went back to the shop, to top it up.

OK ma’am what’s your T-stick number? …
Well, it’s the 40-digit number on the side of the box …
Ahh, 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?   Well it all depends on usage.

You get three gigs for $40 but if you exceed that within a month
you pay a dollar a day and you’ll need to join
our friendly-user programme… and, by the way, conditions always 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 it in your phone;
get a text from gigafone with an 18-digit code,     type that
on the web-page,    put the SIM card back in your stick,     complete all the fields...

Can I do it while you’re here?  Err, no ma’am, our website’s down …
I don’t know, 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.

And I start wondering if smart teats
will take the place of nipples and about my friend’s
kid’s potty with the built-in I-pad stand.

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, lap top,

mobile, I-pad, I-pod in sight;
let’s sit in the emptying night
with nothing but our feeling bodies

to see what plan unfolds.