It Watches You From Its Throne

That flat block absorbs you;

deep into the space between its walls,

a smooth sensation, elation calls

but falls short of satisfying, every time.

It shows the world: everything

there is, hurled at your face in case

you weren't listening close enough,

ears pressed as if a cuff

linked you by the lobes like chain

piercings, never noticed the pain,

hear it sings piercing loud ring-ring.

It's me on the line, are you fine?

Just pull them out, turn it off and leave,

but don't grieve; it's taken enough of your life.