IN WITH THE OLD
The yellow pages are lying on the stoop. What am I supposed to do with it?
I look up addresses and phone numbers online. I check out services and goods through social media and bulletin boards. I consult yelp.
Actually, I’m not even talking about the yellow pages. What landed at my front door is the yellow book and it’s about 1/4 the size of what the yellow pages used to be. It’s hardly big enough to press flowers.
I ought to deposit the yellow book directly into the recycling bin, but for some no-good reason at all, I feel sorry for this vestigial, pointless pile of paper.
I suppose I’ll shelve it near the atlases, where it will sit, untouched, for the next twelve months. Until the next one appears, unwanted, next year.