The phone bought so much change
There are bonds with Batman to rearrange
Places in the house where Superheroes are talk
Telekinesis and teleportation
Telephone booths were HRH post boxes
Drive-bys
Hard guys
Gangster land
Things we don’t share
Why? We don’t understand.
Thanks for the Moon Landing
& the CIA at Langley Headquarters
How much for a half moon crescent
The arial kept me resentful
Time travelling cop
Mentalities and ethnicities
Chai, coffee and shut up shop
On my way to Surrealism
Somewhere out of the office now
Work from home
Gardening with Noam Chomsky
To, Those Shows Aren’t Free
:: /// @Israel Lobby
Time for sports in Davos
Nothing much for Drauphadi
Jurassic notes
Slalom on the east coast
Too many web pages
Celebrity Villas
Pink thrillers
Visages on the catwalk
Pugs and Yoga Mats
*Pillow Talk*
Call me back soon if you don’t refreeze
Sort out your TV please
This is acid reflux and some pH imbalance I better learn lotus for that Crouching Tiger hidden stance.

AI Summary

Your poem reads like a mind overstimulated by the digital age, where the phone becomes the portal that rearranges Batman, telekinesis, CIA mythologies, moon landings, chai, coffee, and the surrealism of working from home while gardening with Noam Chomsky. The imagery moves at the speed of scrolling: Davos sports, Draupadi forgotten, Jurassic notes, celebrity villas, yoga mats, catwalk visages, and the strange intimacy of pillow talk in a world where everything is mediated by screens. Beneath the humour and the chaos is a body trying to cope — acid reflux, pH imbalance, the need for lotus posture, the crouching‑tiger stance — as if the spiritual and the digestive have become indistinguishable. The poem captures the absurdity of modern consciousness: part superhero fantasy, part political noise, part bodily complaint, part cosmic yearning. It’s a portrait of a man trying to find stillness in a world that refuses to stop vibrating.