Bottom Line

 

          “BOTT0m LINE”

                                                 

                                                                                 Count it all lost; matter of fact.

                                                                                 Let the tares grow up with the wheat.

                                                                     As though a zipper parting.

                                                                                At its threshold, in Plainview.

                                                                         Wolf pack growling carnivorously.

                                                                               at the door, crouched to pounce;

                                                                 calculated overrated: until dismissing

                                                                 value runs its course.

                                                                 Becomes dry ground wild weeds;

                                                                chase, haste, wasted: as the ocean

                                                                carries song away, labor incoherent,

                                                               since attachment dwindles dividends

                                                               on keepsake, save face; timekeeper,

                                                               Heirloom.  This gateway neglects.

                                                               The yellow light now turns the interface red.

                                                               Investment equated to being antiquated

                                                               Blindsight, obligated; separated.

                                                               How they downsize and then collapse in space.             

                                                              Only shredded memories on the surface,

                                                             Going, going, gone: skid mark alone the arms;

                                                            Echoes Holocaust, song demise, corpse hinge in decay.

                                                            Possession auction off in disarray.

                                                           To the highest bidder:

                                                           A fraction-loaded stench, relegated by a swivel mirror.

                                                          Misfortune dress-up is an advantage.

                                                          Vintage treasure, no long trash filthy rags.

                                                         The bottom line was its net cost.

                                                                                           

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