The news t-bones you--they've lost
the substitute muddler!--saps
your sacerdotal mojo. How sad
attempts to make the world fair.
The rules will soon be changing.
Until then we'll continue to perfect
new veneers. We know life imprints
even the cut-throat but whatever claim
I've had on you is gone. Haute couture's

plucked eyebrow ceases to please
when all the world is only "bidness"
& our thoughts in their straightjackets
have long ceased to struggle free.
We're growing tombstones in the concrete
garden, raising toadstools in the fungi shop
supporting a powerhouse cast to invest
in a combo vape/hookah bar. If only we
could run the loop backward, stop, drop, & roll.

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