to the assassin who refuses to verify herself
Inspired by a day job experience.
Once a month, I dread your razor in my receiver.
I don’t need to know your name. You announce it.
You assume I’m Filipino or Indian, a brown bandit
Come to steal society, security, your sanctity of medicine.
I can’t connect you unless I know you but you’re undone,
A child’s exercise book, incomplete, Veruca Salt appalled
Some answering service peon should grovel for your name.
I don’t grovel. I tense my tongue and tend the gates.
You quit playing Mexican standoff. Suburban elitist,
You wish to end me with a red X, and disconnect.