Part I

They've tagged me.
I've traded in
my driver's license
for green plastic
#89 today,
yesterday for #77
whatever I'm assigned
until I get a permanent pass
when they clean up the virus
in the security computer
to satisfy the newest demand.

My new gear I clip onto my blouse
or jacket lapel,
letting it hang readily visible
to the commissionaire
as proof
I'm qualified for admittance
to circulate in this building
but upstairs I swipe with a second tag-
a white magnetic stripped
plastic card
on a magnetic holder, I clip onto
my waistband, (of dress pants or skirt,
no, not my undies)
which allows me access with
a mere wand-like wave,
to authorized personnel only
floors and doors.

Part II

Progress means
I've traded in
my temporary pass
(from my blouse or sweater)
to a permanent one
that sports my unflattering photo -
can't complain, the computer's worked
its magic now
so I won't require
as much red tape
to reach my floor
each morning.

My name and number are good
for a few months
at least,
and I'll remain
a tagged animal.
It's official,
I'm recognized
at work in the
Federal Government
of Canada now

09/30/2006

Posted on 09/30/2006
Copyright © 2025 Maureen Glaude