I Want To Call It Sharks…but won’t.

1 min read

Took the launch
to the yacht
for luncheon

a buffet
without borders
with a cosmopolitan

and they gobble
while grousing
about last years
and the cost
of the gloss
to shine on
the folk,
fool provincials,
pocket politicians,
and chum
the waters
with capital


poem 3 april 3 14

This was, is a mess but I’m not parting with more than three hours for this poem a day hootenanny. This took about that. Began as a whole different poem ‘cause I really like the opening stanza. But the subject matter was heavy-handed, and it felt the more I hammered away the further from the nail I landed. Which ain’t to suggest the above is any soft shoe, more a tap dance around the dime a dance capital economy that makes the big bucks boogie.


I’m spry yet retired. I reside in the inner city of a major metropolitan area of the United States. I read politics. I watch baseball. I hum along with the tune. I June swoon, and moon the bad poem. Post here, are old and new. Opinions are my very own, except when wrong.

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