-Sheree Fitch
Can I help you?
Can I have your SIN?
113-176-630?
thank you.
next
can I have your SIN?
114-456-387?
please have a seat sir
a counsellor will be with you
momentarily
I feel like St. Peter
working front desk
at the UIC office
some have memorized their SINs
others fumble
in zippered compartments
put their glasses on
squint
read their sins slowly
as if they can't quite
make them out
then they sit there and stare
at walls or scuffed boot tips
the bulletin board or me
I know the regulars
by name and sometimes
delight them
because I know their sins
by heart
every day I sharpen
HB pencils
my daggers
in case anyone should threaten me
people without jobs
get desperate
sometimes I imagine
the battle with pencils and paper and pen
staple gun
when it is over
the floor is stained
with ink drawn directly
from the veins of sin-filled civilians
and the civil servants
whose job it is
to smile while
we tell lies like
it will only be a little while
then someone will take care of you
there was the time a man
threw his record of employment
across the desk at me
all I really remember
was the dandruff
hailstone-size
on his navy blue sweater
another time I was told
there were no groceries
Christmas was the next week
I tried to console
got spit on
what the fuck do you know
stupid bitch you got a job
one time I was given
a bouquet of geraniums
picked from the flower boxes
in front of city hall
because
you work hard
you make me feel okay
when I come in here
waiting rooms make people tired
tired people live in waiting rooms
that is what I learn in this job
daily I am reminded of regional
despair-ity
hear too many confessions
no power to give absolution
or even a bit of hope that someday
the job they have been waiting for
is theirs
I quit
the guilt
of my conspiracy
dissolved
almost
some nights still
I wake up
having dreamt
people swivel by my desk
in turnstile fashion
my voice is a recorded message
Can I have your sin?
Can I have your sin?