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Telephone Prospecting
by Sue Burke
Politely I ask the secretary: "May I bargain with your boss for his soul?"
"He's in a meeting now," she responds by rote. "May I take your name
and number? Is there a message?"
My name is Mephistopheles. I want him to writhe in everlasting agony
and taste the bloody bile of self-hate -- after I grant every slimy
earthly wish he has ever had, of course.
He'll call back. They always do. I have what they want. They can be famous,
at least a little. Peers will praise them. Budgets will increase. They will do lunch
with the powerful.
"I'm sorry it took so long to get back." We talk. I try to make them condemn
themselves. It's a buyer's market. The asking price is as low as an average
corner office.He adds, "Perhaps you can help me with the anti-trust thing. And
I'm sure you're familiar with golden parachutes." He has rehearsed,
hoping for my call.
Yes, I say, of course, as I scratch out sulfur-scented memos. And, politely,
when he has handed over every loathsome ambition for his eternal career,
I end the interview with a click.
He is mine.
TO COMMENT ON THIS POEM CLICK HERE© Burke, 2006
Sue Burke, originally of Milwaukee, Wisconsin, moved to Madrid, Spain, in 1999. More information about her, and more of her work, is at www.sue.burke.name. "Telephone Prospecting" was inspired by a frustrating day at work.