Priscilla
A poem about customer service
She wouldn’t tell me her name No matter how many times I asked.
She emailed me so many times
Bill’s due Thursday, Bill’s due Monday, Bill’s due February, Bill’s due March.
But she wouldn’t tell me her name No matter how many times I asked
I could sense her annoyance I could see her reluctance I could gauge her resistance I could guess at her circumstance
But she still wouldn’t tell me her name No matter how many times I asked
Always signing off as “Office Manager” A wall of impersonality between us
Shielding her from me, But not from my curiosity
She wouldn’t tell me her name No matter how many times I asked
So, one day I named her Priscilla Oh Priscilla, Dear Priscilla Have you received payment, Priscilla?
And that has made all the difference, Mr. Frost.
The last line refers to Robert Frost’s ‘The Road Not Taken’. It is up to the reader’s imagination to guess what happens next.






