My phone charger hates me.
There’s no other explanation.
There’s no way it doesn’t like its job,
it was born to do it.
It can’t feel the cold
or be allergic to dust
or dislike the sound of traffic
or dislike being trodden on
or dislike being called names
or be desperate for something
more out of life
because it is inanimate.
My phone charger hates me.
There’s no other explanation.

© Carl Burkitt 2021