I’m Not A Robot

The cable company
faxed me a chain letter
about smooth operators
spoofing my home
phone number.

They fear my laptop
suffered a silent
keystroke in the middle
of a critical update.

Have I tried turning
the TV on with my pinky
toe then shouting
the Lord’s Prayer into
my voice remote?

Have I waited
ten seconds before
dropping my drawers
and shaking
my fist at the Wi-Fi?

Have I stopped
sucking my thumb
drive or piercing
my rabbit ears?

As a full-time
confessional poet
I know nothing
about password
protection or open-ended
secret questions.

I can’t prove
I’m not
a robot.

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