I think Keybo is desire in Japanese

I pull my slumbering shiny black slab
from its geeky leather hammock
on my belt.

I asked Immaculate from Uganda for
a camera to use as a phone.
It flips open like a
little black electronic book.
As if.

My thick thumbs stumble
Over the slim keyboard
But still download two pianos,
an alien game to help my brain.

Now, frogs chirp for mates or
Is that a fellow human?

Where do I talk?
How do I listen?
Too late —
The possible distress signal has dived in my call history

Jealous of the attention,
My Mac won't see it.