The Poem: The Thief


We all talk about not getting sucked in to social media, desperate youtube wives of webmd, but we all do it!  The daily vampires of time are sucking our lives away and for the most part we allow it.

— Beacon Poetry Editor Billy Hands

The Thief

by Martin H. Levinson

He sits silent in my living room
daring me to press his buttons so
he can burble and babble his sweet
talk to transfix my attention. I vow

to resist my urge to turn on,
tune in, watch. Not this time,
pal. There are books that need to
be read, calls that need to be made,

floors that need to be cleaned, bills
that need to be paid, thoughts that
need to be reflected on in quiet
solitude without the blare of the

putative news of the day, commercial
cackle, and whatever series shows
lurk on my DVR. Just give me
five minutes he tells me telepathically

and sucker that I am I grant the crook
his wish and click the remote and
five gets you ten and ten gets you
twenty and twenty gets you forty

and before you know it there goes
the evening and it’s such a crime
that once again I’ve been duped
by this cunning thief of time.

Martin H. Levinson is a member of the Authors Guild, National Book Critics Circle, PEN, and the book review editor for ETC: A Review of General Semantics. He has published ten books and numerous articles and poems. He holds a PhD from NYU and lives in Riverhead, New York. Website:

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