Killing Time Poem by Kim Davies

What to do. Bored. In need of company,
familiar faces, voices, friends.
Click.
The button that is the invitation, invites them all
and then they are here. Endlessly available with their endless advice;
how to cook, what not to wear, be a designer/property developer/gardener,
a chef from Hell.
My friends sit in the corner, confined
in the cube, news from around the globe,
weather predictions for today, the next day and the day after.
Tell me again tomorrow.
In my home everyday, my friends old and new, familiar
guests, never outstay their welcome. Peering out from their
silver screen until I tire of their faces, their company, their instructions:
A good time to put the kettle, don't go away, put my feet up, make
myself comfortable. Sit back and enjoy this program, that documentary,
drama, quiz show, soap, sitcom........
Don't go away, stay with us now for this weeks..., the latest episode....,
a brand new premier.
Don't go away.
My friends. Everyone wanting my company, no-one knowing
my name.
No-one knowing I exist.
Click.