The Death of a Cell-phone

What would we do without a telephone?
We must travel and couldnīt stay at home.
From Helsinki to Beirut and perhaps to L.A.,
from Coober-Pedy to Buffalo and to Convay.

We must walk, fly or swim from the West to the East,
and from the high mountains to the deep-sea at least.
No time for a cup of coffee nor a cup of tea,
no time for a single kiss between you and me.

No time for a visit, for a breakfast or a celebration,
no time for a sweet sleep, a love-letter or a declaration.
This really became last Saturday reality for me
as my cell-phone jumped into a cup of hot coffee.

Explanation
In April 2004 I bought a book at Barnes and Noble (Little Rock) and a delicious cup of hot fresh brewed coffee (like many other persons) which I wanted to incorporate at home. On my way back to North Little Rock on Highway 630 between Baptistīs Health Center and University Mall the smell of that cup of big coffee was so strong that I tried to drink a little bit and suddenly the cell-phone rang and I had to do several things at the same time:
to drive, to pay attention to the street, to give a call and to drink. There it happened, the cell-phone jumped into the hot coffee with milk (in toto). Now, my cell-phone was a submarine.
Next day I got a new cell-phone at ATT because hot coffee and milk are the death for these sensitive creations. By the way I believe "It was the milk and not the coffee" (Shakespeare).