If we all didn't think we could handle our high
This modern world Manhattan
Would be one big AA meetin'
Serving cupcakes and dream water.
Maybe at the end of this
We can say the way things go
To some cold forsaken coffee cup
Whose service we'll ignore,
For argument's the lingua franca,
The dead leaf we cats claw,
Because it's hard for us to trust
The truth more than the no.
All our fears are of being real enough,
Of telling respectful enough lies
To those with the power to be right.
We rush so the capricious won't wait,
And squirm on the pins of their whims,
But all they want is for us to read their mind
So they can change it, some captured thought they can
React back to, with red ink and a captious bellow.
The subsidies they come and go, like wheels
Upon the dharma, that float as gifts
To tag with shame or with respect.
And then, at last, the inevitable
Bell is rung on the exchange.
The sharks find meat to seize upon.
The paper goes to press.
The restaurants may once again serve food.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Before the Deal Closes
time:
5:40 AM
genera:
new amsterdam