A Soul in the Rafters – A Poem

A Soul in the Rafters

Ground floor and the service attendant passes his time
out to the incoming guests
with a wink.
They are all contributors to an excellent society.
They donate to the foundation.
And the world will be made
more perfect
for them.
There is a global erosion in literary competence.
Apparently.
It is the main course
of discussion
for the dinner being held tonight.

Do you have any good reading materials, M?
I would prefer periodicals.
Oh, but that’s right. My soul is in the rafters, and the elevator
has long
been out of commission.
I wonder at the marvel of the movement of bodies.
Or a body. Or nobodies.
It is all dependent on my mood, really.
And the flavor of the drink.

Oh M, why do your lips tremble at the grotesque words?
Yes, we have a long and hazy day ahead of us.
Not bright.

Just hazy.

 

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