by Lisa Alvarez
She found him in the office copy machine
still warm. His hair
a righteous white halo. His countenance
confident as ever.
“I told you so,” he seemed to say,
“In capitalism, things are personified
and people are commodified.” Turning
the lever let her release him.
The paper jam resolved.
The machine restored.
She was sure that
he belonged to someone
that someone was looking for him
wanted him needed him.
When she pinned him to the bulletin board
she was not trying to be clever
not trying to be ironic
but to be of use, like Karl.
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