CALCULATED COCKTAILS
Cocktail party cornered
Collar starched and stiff
Drink half-full in one hand
Abstinence belied midriff
Brown stains on his teeth and nails
Sweat pouring from his brow
Surrounded by the products
Of success from past and now.
The nut bowls long been emptied
French dip on his tie
Beyond weak jokes and then some
With one last chuckled lie
Religion, political parties,
The secretary’s style,
All points of conversation
Sprinkled with pensive guile
Gauged humphs, rakish guffaws
Sneers and snively hot-airs blow
We must be most agreeable,
The Boss is here, you know.
Stale, gray cloud, familiar thick
The air hung just waist-high
Room-sized miniature of Downtown
A 5 o’clock rush-hour sky;
.
Another aimless cocktail fest
With just the town’s invited best
Only the names change…
The faces are the same.
.
.
Jon Jacobs c 2009
Leave a Reply