The Garden City Refugee

Ode to MTS

January 11, 2013

Three or four times a year, it happens without fail
My dead phone line prompts another rhyming tale

For MTS, I am a frequent target, you see
It does not make me beaming with glee

Most often they’ll disconnect my line at the box
When someone moves into the apartment blocks

They try to blame squirrels chewing on the line
I think that they’re trying to milk overtime

Extra money to make their living room look sleek
While my phone line is idle for a week

I throw my hands in the air
I’ve already had my fair share

Pick someone else, please
There’s a whole forest out there, not just a few trees