Somewhere
between the junk mail and the spam,
the old coffee ring and jingling doorbell,
between the clicks and cookies is where I am
and the form's a boiled bullfrog in a spell;
in the crumbs of breakfast rolls and plum jam,
the nervous laughter summed in a nutshell,
huge search portals and old blinking programmes,
algorithms that don't travel very well.
A time slot please, for the biometrics,
the photo must be 2'' X 2",
take off the specs, not sure about the lipstick,
a clean background, spotless white is preferred.
Don't look for greys, don't say even a word,
look at the lens, there's no need to flinch.
