Customer Service

I hate moth­er­fuck­ing, here jump-through-this hoop, and this hoop, and this hoop, fill it out in trip­li­cate with a vir­gin wit­ness and then so sor­ry we’re closed come back when it isn’t The Feast of St. Bureau­crat, cock-block­ing red tape. So here is a not good poem.

Press one to speak
in trip­li­cate tongues
of flame in my head
ache; Now serv­ing
no.one has a
straight answer.

Please hold.
Please hold.

The no.you have
dialed is out of
ser­vice with a
smile; Now serv­ing
no.one in their
right mind.

Please hold.
Please hold.

Closed for
lunch and just
because; Now serv­ing
no.one wants
to be here.

Ain’t noth­ing slow­er
than the speed of
incom­pe­tence.

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