communication with salespeople

standing in this circle
painted on the concrete around you
wind shearing its way through you

approaching are these strangers
with their crooked-sideways glances
paperwork covering their eyesockets

just when you have a chance
at regaining a sort of composure
they will swoop down
on polo-shirted wings
and beging picking and prying
at your eyes, like a pack
of diseased magpies

so here you are standing
head facing to the sky
while your eyes are bleeding
and still their hands are pulling
ripping and shredding
at what is left of you

they will want ever more
that will never change
and all you want is nothing
but to dote with silent rage