Do you know me?
Of course you don’t.
I’m the one you never even see —
the tollbooth hand, the help desk voice,
the picker, the sorter, the sweeper,
and someone’s best chance for survival

because they always come for the left behind,
for the overlooked irritations,
for the almost forgotten and the rarely-noticed,

but they never come for the invisible,

which makes me a good choice
to carry your last hope, a place
to put your faith
if you don’t want it crushed.
Bring me into the world you’re
trying to save and
see who I am and what I can do:
in so many ways I already
run your world.

On the other hand
I could
anchor my despair
and rage elsewhere
and carry
bombs from them
to you —

that’s up to you.

Let me in,
lock me out —
one way or another
you’ll see me soon:
my knowing eyes,
my brimming mouth,
my chest afire.