Wall Street blues - a poem
I took a quick afternoon walk
down Wall Street.
Walked past bankers, rapists,
couple of commonplace murderers,
some stray immigrants,
lovers, fruit vendors and students.
Some had just made a killing
off someone else's fortune.
Some had just killed
for someone else's fortune.
Some were learning to kill
over that self same thing.
Some had just made love
furtively in that empty office space
knowing fully well,
they would not confess.
Some forced their love
on unwilling terms, from positions
of advantage and carrots of promise.
Others were making their plans
of working the American dream,
using, of course - the gospel;
Gekko's famous lines as guide.
Others were just busy, buying lunch
and hurrying back to finish that deal
which will foreclose another home
somewhere else far away.
Some were selling fruit juice
in little plastic cups.
Four dollars for that little cup
seems to resonate
with the rest of the space; rapacious.
Yes, I passed them all
while walking
down Wall Street.
Friday, March 07, 2008
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