Sandra Benedetto: The cell phone to my 3rd period student in seat 14

Just try to ignore me.
Inert on the desk or alert in your pocket,
sounds pretty racy
but baby, I’ve got it –
you know, the “it” factor,
all bells and whistles.
No factory presets for you, girl.
No sooner do you hear my text tone
than I own you. Like Pavlov’s dogs
I ring and you run,
ready to reach out and touch someone.
You charge me, I charge you,
we connect. I must admit,
your fingertip taps have had an effect.
Just try to ignore me
as I vibrate, illuminate. Yeah, it’s kind of love/hate,
but I know that I’ve got you
as long as Snapchat awaits.
I’m hot in your hands
under the desk,
hidden, doing your bidding.
Your teacher says “What’s that?”
you say “Nothing”,
sounds desperate.
I get the silent treatment or tossed in your bag,
the lack of me causing panic. See, I’m your
phantom appendage
and my apps will upend you.
Just try to ignore me.
I’ve got games in spades. What grades?
That love note you wrote hovers
in the ether. You can hardly stand it —
will he or won’t he
respond with a heart emoji?
Just try to ignore me
as I buzz with warm fuzzies,
inside jokes and
“Why was he”s.
Just try to ignore the dreaded
“Low battery – Dismiss”,
the knowledge that I can deplete
and Nah – I’ll never be obsolete.
I’ll give you the world, girl.
Go ahead, try. Find that easy swipe
across, left to right.
Ah, that feels nice.
I knew you would.

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