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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Comedy · #2203527
Overwhelmed by the telemarketers.
Well they start out in the morning,
and continue through the day.
And they come without a warning;
telemarketers I say.
And it seems they have a special
way of knowing when you eat…

…and they’re oh so bad;
they’re annoying to a tee.
It’s a tidal wave of, in your ear;
telephone insistency.
It’s a swarm of telemarketing,
we’re swamped by all the calls—
they run amok.

Then a little after noon they ring,
so suspicious—that is me.
I am not surprised to hear another
call from AT&T.
They keep coming at you like a
dog who has not eaten in a week…

…and it’s oh so sad;
it is taxing to a fault.
I would like to find out where they
work, sprinkle cubicles with salt.
It is madcap never-ending slew
of calls unwanted by everyone—
they run amok.

Plus the robocalls are on the rise;
they are even laced with threats.
It is something that I sure despise—
it is bull, still it upsets.
Like the faking of IRS, or Microsoft;
oh Mr. Robot, take a hike…

…and the calling guano reeks,
and the gall of call goes on;
it is telemarketing invasion—
your privacy be gone.
It is overwhelming all insisting
unsolicited pain in the ear—
they run amok.

39 Lines
Writer’s Cramp
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