Lost myself momentarily opening up a neatly folded daydream…
A cult of customer service
Fueled by backroom beatings and
Warnings of next-life condemnation, but
Holding out hope for bliss in return for this-life customer satisfaction.
Every transaction personal, genuinely personal
The kindest place you’ve ever seen—
Smiled as my teeth parted salty flesh
Crunched through a morsel of life I never really saw
But deemed consumable…
Came back to myself, about to have dinner.
No, it’s my pleasure.