Depression Makes a Lousy Breakfast
Drapes are closed but the sun gets through
Summer morning, birds a-tweeting
Sweat on sheets, personal dew
Two more snoozes then up for meeting
A chunk of mahogany
Surrounded by suits
Well-shaved chins
Playing silk flutes
Golden cuff links
Slide over shine
Reaching for Perriere:
Businessman's wine
The big-haired girl
With tight lips and skirt
With clipboard and pen
In a roomful of men
She manages managers
Directs the directors
Away from the P's and Q's they might blurt
When minutes are taken
They while away hours
In a concrete maze
With the rented flowers
The plastic shag carpet
The paper thin walls
The wood-textured desk
Holding five clacking balls
The photo of daughter
The drawing by son
The lunch packed by wife:
Ham and cheese in a bun
Like a silent fire drill
At four-thirty flat
The lifts are sardined
With impersonal chat
All hoping to beat
The motorized fleet-
The Mercedes armada
That trawls down their street
Curtains open, sun goes down
A day in credit, a night in debt
A silent pillow away from town
Night light off, alarm clock set
Copyright © Andrew Holt | Year Posted 2016
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