Working For...

"Show initiative"
you ballyhoo,
like a rapist politician
howling patriotism.

"We do not carry passengers"
you accuse.
Good -
when do you resign?

I see you,
sitting back,
smug,
porridge-eyed,

and you'll never admit
that the rocket you sought
said "Brockwell's"
not "NASA".

So now it goes up,
a lone flame,
a dark night.
That's orbit?

And when it crashes
on the bottom line,
will it be the cleaner's fault
for washing out the tea-leaves?

Will it be the receptionist
for picking up the banker's call?
But, no, not you -
not in a million egos.


interpretation
from walkful thoughts

image: po

Dylan Harris
88-89

it's my hands
my difficulty with melancholy
hence the coldness
fear in flight, god
dog sea
push pop
all
publish

© & licence
feedback
site home




this archive is hosted by arts & ego
© 1978-2023 dylan harris