POEM

business

Is the pale dead air on thank you
a rhetorical hand-job jive
where currents are focused on evading
progression and humility

Nod you head
ahh the fine shoes
bye bye

Hermes bitches about the
tarried economic blah

Sisters huddled in shawls crap in
aging festoons
and continental breakfast swims in praise
I don't know how sea monkeys live
they thrive even
(overeating precluding to dominance)
or how giants paste the limit of thought

It confuses and upsets me
I sleep in a blue shirt and slacks
just in case.