i would call the help desk
all the time
it was almost
scheduled
i treated it like
a time-out
this and that
i would say
and also
the printer
it doesnt know who i am
a strange IT guy
a strange faced
tall faced
long man
would came down
i
mean
his frowns were kind of inside
and
his loping stride way too long
kind of staged
like his mind
was on a catwalk
and his
laptop bag
seemed
borrowed somehow
or downloaded
and 3D printed
just
for
today
or like he was
a dead meat sim
the helpdesk just grew
in
a
windowsill pot
like cress
~
he was a suited guy
collar open too wide
tie gone wild
50 or so
and
looked almost like
he could be
daniel craigs
older brother
if his parents
had kept him
in the dark
till adolescence
i always got the impression
he might not actually be there
but i didnt ask anyone else
if they could see him
or try to touch him
at all
i dont think
i wanted to know
as long as the printer
it knew who i was again
~
a midlife crisis
or an effort at camoflague
had tattooed
crisp stars
up his left neck
and there was
smudged green
barbed wire
drawn up the right
and
when
he
had
mended
our
printer
he went out to chain smoke
in the bluelight entrance
making
endless
calls
on
a
too big
dead square
blackberry
telephone
like
he was an
anomaly
fresh thru
the
mandela gateway
and needed beaming up
right away
before his presence
collapsed
all the worlds
forever
from newsweek.com
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