i remember kafka
a poem

i get a piece of mail today.

no postage, no return address.
i open it up.
letterhead looks like this:

U.O. Collections
666 American Way, 01289
Newark, New Jersey.

never heard of ’em, but
it says, ‘Dear’ and then
my name.

scanning there’s words
like ‘non-compliant’
and ‘insufficient’
and ‘negligence’
and ‘liable.’

then at the bottom in bold
and it says it’s due

there must be some…

what’s the number?
near the top it’s

i call.

‘Thank you for calling
U.O. Collections. An operator
will be with you shortly.
Please stay on the line.
For quality assurance purposes,
this call may be monitored
or recorded.’


‘Due to above average
call volume, we are experiencing
longer than usual hold-times.
The next available operator
will be with you in:’

and then another voice spliced the words
‘Two to Three Years.’

‘Please hold. And thank you for your

then i see the interest rate and it’s
600 percent and it’s compounded
every hour.

‘This whole thing,’ I think.

‘It just doesn’t
seem fair at all,’


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