"The corporation is there to serve...",
"The corporation is there to serve...",
Like a rosary one intones,
But as its revolving karmic doors
Open and close
One grasps
At chimeras,
Welcomes familia,
Works out deep-seated
Personal traumas
Before objective strangers
In all but name
-- And then they go,
Like you,
To greener
Bank vaults,
Without the wisp of
A reason why
You came in like
A whirlwind,
Upsetting every plate,
Then slipped away
Without a seismic trace,
The only crack of recall
Within the permanent
Walls.
What will we remember
In the wake?
The glimpse into
What once existed
Or the eye
That caught
Some light?
