Spam every day with that area code, the one with teeth.

Fool me once, twice, forever, it’s okay, I’ll be your fool, but our kind has a currency:  
something familiar. 

The trick will work if you tell me
who I was before. 
I’ll take it from almost any mouth, 
listen to any cruelty. 

Say you were thinking of me when and you could sell me anything. 

Alas, fool fooled, again I answer to the sound of a sweet machine voice 
inquiring about my car warranty.  

I have no car! No crush, nowhere to drive to, nothing 
but the loneliness of afternoon swelling into something more sinister. 

You know what I mean? That strange house you see when you look over your shoulder? 
How memories can feel like a hallway. 

And it seems like it should be easy to open the door! 

But who did this? Tied my hands behind me? 

It is all I can to do kneel at the welcome mat and fall forward,
lay my face down where I once wiped my feet.

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