Litany

I am an answering machine
in a sleepy midnight email. Typed
questions have no human tone, yet
I have to answer.

I am an answering machine
in response to the years apart. Time
passes marked by mistakes for which
I have to answer.

I am an answering machine
in the night-emptied street. Drunk
on everything, even a phone call,
I have to answer.

I am an answering machine
in conversations about me. Honesty
is at once surrender and challenge, both
I have to answer.

I am an answering machine
in my dark room. Arms enclose
and hands fold together,
I have to answer.

I am an answering machine.
Whether you like the truth
of my words or their sound is immaterial.
I have to answer.