I wish they didn't put mirrors behind the bar
Lady Pink, The Death of Graffiti, 1982,
The Attorney Arrives At His Office On April 16
-- klipschutz
Of course it would be dark,
the accounting firm next door,
on the ultimate day after the night before.
People hate lawyers and pity the bean counter.
People hate themselves and withhold pity from the poor.
Across my desk not one of you
can look me in the eye.
Straight-faced, I hear your flimsy alibi.
Take next door your shoebox of receipts.
You want miracles, try Lourdes.
No more can my dog play Hot Cross Buns
than a CPA scramble the code
and make pearls from a string of sham zeroes.
Mob fantasy stuff. The movies.
They eat alone at their desks,
rub their temples same as me.
We sell our eyesight by the hour.
In pursuit of the rock bottom line.
Are the crunchers at home sleeping in?
Up at dawn shredding wheat at loose ends?
Did they traipse off to Palm Springs together?
The way dollar signs pass through their hands
like a rope trick, you’d never
know from the burn marks on mine.
Do they tally each provident thrust?
As for me, I plead out every case.
Today may as well be tomorrow—
on anybody’s sabbath more laws than hearts get broken.
Enough get caught to keep me late tonight.
