At The Agency Again

the simulation of manners breaks the heart
the kiss on the cheek by torchlight and
there you are. the last one on the list 

and isnt it just bliss

to get acknowledged by a machine

that has a wish to be seen helping the poor, even
winning awards for it

how are you, they ask your category
whatever its name is; homeless, deranged,
an aging pop in the population

never a friend, someone they'd invite in for tea.
someone they'd call a colleague
someone less than me, they think.

and they don't even blink when you talk

about what happened to you. really.
and you feel a curious fade
and know they've ended their working day

and they want you to leave

buh bye you representative of homelessness,the
disadvantaged, over bandaged wounded
walking whatever you say

they look away bored or glazed you feel worse than ignored
even when they look straight at you
later they'll laugh at you with their friends

at  the sidewalk cafe and talk about leaving their job
to get away from the scurvy mob.
here's what we owe you they confide

in a personable manner killing your chatter
thin as a candy coating on a chocolate
leftover from last Christmas no one would want/

you pay their bills with all your ills and they get their fill
while you eat scraps, and get a gloved pat on the back
because they're so sure you must have the plague

when all you really wanted was a real conversation

with anyone from the nation
but you get a nod and a wink
while they're thinking how brilliant they are

when dealing with folks subpar

they dont care what you feel

to them you're just not real

to them you aren't even you
you're just part of the zoo
they curate

too late on scene
to be anything
they take your name

and file the claim
and make the file
and then they smile

but they don't really see you.
their cell phone rings
from someone they really want to talk to.

and you dont mean a thing to them.

mary angela douglas 31 august 2019