His Morning Commute

At tongues-length 
a woman 
savages
the cellphone she plucked 
from the garden.
No trespassing!
An "at" sign.
The question 
of "Where were you," when
"Houston" may only prove
an unacceptable 
answer.  This isn't 
the most awkward 
way to write you, but neither 
the least. The revolution 
will be autocorrected. We will all 
be autocorrected. 
Every day extraneous 
pieces 
snipped like the stems 
of a rose bush. My message
conveniently dropped
in a pile. What is
eventually 
due is eventually 
due, and what is 
eventually due
is the bill.
For the phone call,
for the ride,
for the thorns.