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When Someone Is Where They Should Not Be "We have fifty-seven cameras," She tells me as we walk a corridor, My elbow in her hand. "We control loss that way, And we can tell when someone Is where they should not be." I wonder, As time for me to sign The contract nears, Who watches those fifty-seven screens, And who decides when someone Is out of place. I note their positions And the blind spots. Perfect coverage is hard to find, And what is most desired Is the camouflage of plain sight. She does not know That I am where I should not be. I can walk before her cameras And no one will notice. When the time comes, I will step into a blind spot Near where I am normally seen And the deed will be done. Then I will walk away from the building And not return. She will be none the wiser.
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