Thumbnail portraits
the twelve-point questionnaire,
did you sleep okay, what are you cooking
do you have friends, do you pick your nose
pay your bills, wash your undies
the mundane multiplied
but it isn’t the disappointment
as much as the scammers
the great pretenders hiding behind $400 dollar Raybans
who’ve lost their spouses, cancer,
bulimia, you get the picture, some incident
that wiped the slate clean with a dry sponge
father and son tumbling from a cliff
a surviving daughter now earning a Ph.d. in Computer Science,
basket weaving at a prestigious university in Great Britain
or would you prefer something Bostonian
gazooks, of course he’s a fund manager, either that
or retiring in three weeks
but right now he’s got a contract in Dubai, Singapore, St. Petersburg
after all, we live in a global economy
he’ll be back like Schwarzenegger’s Terminator,
says he needs your help
something about a money transfer—
so what’s the broadside here the upside here
some Christian missionary position
the morality of hollow men
why don’t I back up the car, cut bait
blame it on a need to know
backstory
men who stand in front of churches waving Bibles
when the only book they’ve ever read is PlayBoy
which isn’t even a book but a magazine
an errant knight dressed in white satin
can’t say what the truth is
only that the world is their oyster
to eat or not to eat, never the question.