Three tables down you are patient, striking,
deadly. Your combed back hair,
confident as you drink your poison.

Mergers, Acquisitions. A convincing life,
the new sheets, stained, covered in cran-apple;
Your attempt at a reason: the carelessness
of a snack. The brooding reality of a body,
lodged somewhere between hardwood and heaven.

Next Thursday you have a meeting. Prepare,
put on your best suit, your best smile,
tell yourself you have control of this.
Pretend those victims were problems, inferior,
worthless. You did the rest of the city a favor
they rewarded you by looking the other way.

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