Phone Screen/Recruit #99

Phone Screen

Dark and attuned. I have no built-in bias.

I only give her what she gives me.

What she gives me I devour

And sync back to her hand.

Just as it is, unaltered by emotion.

I am not ruthless. Just prone to deception.

An edgeless rectangle, an orb-like

mischievous little god.

Most time I spend in her pocketbook.

The inside is beige. I know it like the palm of her hand.

The noise of the zipper disturbs my sleep.

Light flickers.

Her face and blackness over and over.

Now she holds me. Searching my depths for who she really is.

Sometimes she’ll gaze at liars—a mirror, the eyes of men. 

Only I reflect her truthfully.

And all I get are tears and a trembling touch.

Back I go. She comes and goes.

Each morning we are the first to replace each other’s darkness.

Recruit #99

Are you an OMNAR person?

Will you clap (like a seal) on command

Gouge out an eye, wear chaps to France

To conjure miracles blindfolded?

All with silicone tits. You have a degree, right?

No? No?! Then great, you’ll lie under oath!

Only then can we give you a thingy.

Stop that face. It’s an unproductive face.

Loosen that top button. You look hot.

Now open your mouth and fill it willingly—

Marry it.

Dive in the champagne and

Taste the macaroons—

If you really are OMNAR.

Will you? Wed?

We have stock options, you know.

And the guarantee of nights of sleep repeated, unbothered,

With all dreams of tomorrow silently dissolved.

You look like a stiff. What did I say about that top button?

Make it two. Here, take this and wear it.

It’s dapper and regal and they’ll bury you in it.