Demonstratives, egregious adjectives salute me on the street.
The “while” of all my hours. The ëgo you may say gains admittance to my ear
And raises spectres in the gathering rusts of any fiscal year
Of clouds and storms, the noxious winters on all fronts. Anxious fleets
Of bankrupt publicans working seas of mitigating spreadsheets―
“Procrastination,” someone mentions, “just keep talking,”―old debates
Clabber easily where genocide of currencies are sanctioned, openly; discrete
Parleys-in-Council. Morganatic masses melt to puddles in polar streets
While doctors spin from pulpits, “Foul! No matter what our fate!”
And we’ll all drown as when emerging from an ancient a Celtic haze,
Roman rhetoric melding to Norman lists of deficits put to page
Point for point their goals around the glory of taxes and invasion in the late
Night nauseating prattle of the screen. But no place to hide in the latter days
Of bold correction in the Saxon markets, fickle futures that simply fade away.