Mar 05, 2010 19:30
He hides in his suit like a snake in the grass, his sales-pitch forked-tongue hissed. Now the wolves wear their name tags, they are hunting in packs, herding their prey up the aisles and back. They're smiling, their teeth are showing. While the doctors and lawyers like vultures descend, they swoop down to the scene of the car accident to pick the victims to pieces. Then there is the sly silver fox, makes his money tele-scamming notch babies. He says, "The end is near, buy my policy. I'll make you young again, I'll make you young again..."
Loan sharks will circle, until they can make sure it's paid.
Take the cash from my hand, hear the register sing and the roar of the lion logo on the screen. He's hungry, I should buy some popcor. So I exit the dark, feeling blind in the sun and the bobcats look tired. They ate their fill of asphalt because we need more parking with so many up at the pulpit. Rams and bugs. The news cameras capture guerrilla warfare. Eagles into buildings crash landed, despair is all that there is now in a cubical cage that smells like a rat whose smile gets bigger along with your debt.
Don't take it personal, it's just business.