On the border between Target and Walmart,
on the border between Costco and Sam’s Club,
on the border between desire and fulfillment,
somebody has your number.
In a conversion van with a seascape on the side,
in a putty-colored, green-cursored computer,
in a satellite dish pulling signals from space,
somebody has your number.
There is nothing you can do;
you will never rest again
now that you know,
somebody has your number.
If it’s Tuesday p.m., check out Open Link Night at dVerse Poets.
Marilyn Rauch Cavicchia 
Some sad truth here–
Thanks, Audrey …
YES.
I love the putty-colored computer especially.
Thanks, Jennifer! I was imagining some weird scenario with a van and an old computer. They all used to be that color, right?
Oh, yes. I had a Mac Classic in my office at school that was EXACTLY that color. Might as well have been in that same van.
I must be crazy–b/c I don’t give a rat’s a*s WHO has my number–or what they DO with it. IN all fairness I must say I’m so old, maybe THAT’S why I don’t give a sh…don’t CARE!
Further, when there is nothing I can do, it is more reason to be unconcerned about “my” number.
YOURS and OTHERS I AM worried about…
Thanks for “cute” poem!!!
So, it wouldn’t bother you if your card and info were stolen at Target and someone tried to open all these accounts with it? You’re much more calm than I am, then? 🙂 Thanks for your comment!
Somebody always has your number. It’s so unfortunate that we don’t know who it is.
Indeed! One time, I did know. My first credit card was stolen before I received it, and I eventually saw a record of the transactions made in my name. Kind of creepy. Also, pretty mundane. She filled her car’s tank, had a big Mexican dinner, and bought lots of stuff at Victoria’s Secret. It turned out to be a lady in the campus mail room — which I’d suspected all along, but the police wouldn’t listen.
the ghosts in the machine turn out to be flesh and blood ~
Oooh, chilling! And true.
It’s inevitable and part of modern life that I detest.
Me, too!
Ugh. It’s so true somebody’s got my number. I just got a call from the bank. Somebody really did have my number. Luckily, they caught it in time. Now I have to get a new number.
Ugh, indeed. My husband used a card at Target during the time of their breach.
Oh, the tension created here. Now I am anxious. But then as you said, there is nothing I can do. Great little poem!
Thanks, David! Sorry to make you anxious. 🙂
Sign of a job very well done, and you are very welcome.
Ugh! True.
Ugh is the word!