new poems

 

Drinks

Suspicious death if work colleague

No police report

Driver of motorbike dropped off at home by ambulance

His social media all deactivated

Back rider dead had 2 black eyes

No medical autopsy

Doctor said died of damaged lungs

Al drank a lot

Was in trainer

Future wife Jessy has qstns

Anon email tulfo manila bulletin rappler

Have suspicious death story here

 

 

 

War Far

The war came and left as fast as it arrived

The place was different afterwards

With ruined houses and dead bodies

Lost lives and materiel damage

Such was war and innocent targets

How can a precision missile miss?

 

 

with a loud church minister

see him pivot in his pulpit like jesus was there

listen to his inspiring sermon fire brimstone orders

notice his eyes how they dee and do not see you all

 

 

 

aboard a busy bus

how the harassed conductor takes fares overcharging

jam packed like fucking sardines sweaty smelly serious

shriek the driver swerves the vehicle cursing cars

 

 

Eight Rice Cups

 https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CTVJNFNC

“How many cups of rice did you have Fred?” the body builder asked Fred.

 

“I ate one cup of rice mate,” Fred replied.

 

“Do you know how many I ate?”

 

“No I don’t, how many?”

 

“I had eight cups of rice!”

 

“That’s way too many mate!” Fred was shocked. Their lunch dinner break was only an hour. That included going from the call centre to the eating place, ordering food, eating it then going back. “Why did you have so many?”

 

“It’s free and all you can eat plus I’m bulking myself up for body building. I need the mass to turn into muscle.”

 

“I see. Yes I know you need the mass for muscle. It’s all carbs. My old workmate used to do that.”

 

“Yes. Free food helps so I’m not paying for each rice cup. I work out after shift every day. Do different muscle sets.”

 

“Good luck with it. I did weights a while ago but never ate a lot. Plus I did a manual job in a bakery. I’m full with what I’ve just eaten too.”

 

“Come on you two we need to go back now. We need to be back in the training room in five minutes,” one of the gals said. The body builder hurriedly finished his mean and Fred drank some more water. They were all learning Comcast tech support systems. It was intense with a power tripping trainer who only spoke in vernacular.

 

 

 

 

 

Junk Centre?

 

Junk Centre

In the office they used old outdated equipment. The headphones were mismatched. The computers had wide screen monitors. The keyboards had missing keys. The software tools were obsolete. The internet connection was dial up. The supervisor was deathly pale. The manager wore old thread bare clothes. The accounts were grandfathered. The building lease was past dated. The salary was a decade old pay rate. The reps were straight out of college. What did they know of call centres? Did they think this old junk was modern? There was nothing new or advanced about this place. It simply was junk. Which part would collapse first?

Capital. For The Account

 

Capital. For The Account

It was the sale that was that never was for the agent. He introduced the customer to the service. He vetted the customer for security. He turned the lead into an opportunity. He emailed the customer some info. He called the customer. He did a Needs Assessment. He knew what the customer required. He got his sup to take over the call. He sent the details for promotion approval. He put the customer on hold. The Verification Team was waiting. As was the rep for approval. The customer dropped the call. The rep called him back. Stay on the line this is important. The approval came in later. The customer got the sale. He did it on the website with chat support. Not over the phone. The rep had no sale and was gazumped. Yet he was happy. Why was that? The sale was for the account. Even if his name wasn't on it. What a proactive customer. The agent did his job well. The customer got the service. It was for the account. Even if not his own sales total.