Don't -- Take It With You
The Critic's call makes heavy work of the vacuuming
when with micro-management phraseology
a chocolate kiss is taken for a day wasted
and the desire for escape is hailed as insubordination.
A sponge is made of the mind that can not sort the unique
from memories weaved of common thread into culture's tapestry.
So tribes encamp along the edge beyond corporate towers and their gates
while specialization is mastered with a mop and a bucket.
Fight kills the mind, turning its pages like those in a book,
revealing secret references with vivid accuracy.
The dishes all covered in cheese are a factory delight
for supervisors who raid frustration with a whip.
Friends invite themselves to dinner with established flare
seeking retreat under cobwebbed corners and candlelight
while the fly on the wall refuses to answer questions,
but silently entreats any competition to land in the soup.
Most know the dials and knobs of the television
and fill their cups with friends who will not bruise
when they are mixed with ice and bumped together:
Like any good natured martini; stirred but not shaken.
-- tim
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