THE DEPARTMENT OF INSPECTIONAL SERVICES Wants to give you advice, embossed While taking your tolerant hands And making an X through your dotted life. They talk. Word gets around. Suddenly You're a wart in the file. Clerks in fitting Wool suits peer over their glasses and nod. You're the misarrangement walking Around with a letter in your rib And a summons on your myopia. Having a very nice day, the Inspector Processes your annotated dictum Smugging in his hum little cubicle. --S.K.