by Jeffrey Park
She knew quite well it was a lie – here to
count your electric sockets, ma’am,
won’t be a minute – but let him in anyway
and followed him from room to room.
Twelve, thirteen,
if he needed to play this game, it was ok
by her –don’t miss the one
behind the sofa. Nineteen, twenty – and
the one here by the shoe rack.
She admired the way he wrote it all down
sparing no effort in his subterfuge.
She was actually disappointed
when he declined her offer of a cup
of tea. Lots of sockets still to be counted
in this neighborhood,
he told her, more going in every day.
She double-checked though
after he’d gone;
he’d missed three sockets. What you’d
expect from government work.
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