.
It starts as a bureau
in the bed chamber; chester
drawers chugged full
of forms, T's to be dotted,
I's to be capitalized. Suddenly,
you notice, the desk clerk
is asleep.
.
Nothing moves, no clock
ticks, no pen approves any
request else the world
inexorably begins the procedure
to end prematurely. Clasp
the knobs gently, tug. Your
entire world stops whirling
until you sign. And you have
to sign.
.
Tell me, how did you learn
to use red tape as a bandage?
Identification always checks
out, the deeds are all validated.
The great seal is attached
and unbroken. The bureaucratic
countdown pauses. The top
drawer is permanently locked
because you lost the key.
.
allets
04-20-16
951a
.