Poetry

Wall Street

The city’s wallet
reeks of
illicit orgasms
squeezed in on
the way home to the
wife and kids
but the suit
that sits
on its shoulders
is golden,
integrity
folded
into crisp
pocket squares,
a daring
display of
patrician
plumage
that fools
too many as they
are shuffled toward
a mythical
land of plenty,
fattened calves
for the
gentry

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