Tuxedo-si-do
Chandeliers dangle on high in the marble hive,
Where the bow-tied band scrape at strings and blow horns
For the high-flying bankers to mingle and merge
With the bloated corporate corpses:
Drowned in drink and choked with ties,
Lifeless whites in sunken eyes.
Right angle elbows, stiff drinks and fat fingers
That clamp at the clammy palms of some long lost
Business venture and party laugh,
With sneering, jeering future staff.
Wildflower women dot the floor
In the meadow of temptation.
Cufflinked insects swarm for
Sweet nectar and descend
To the dress-petal cleft,
That plunges down
To cut diamonds,
Like bait between
Counterfeit breasts.
Har-har hoodwinks sound through
The room and pantomime panting ensues
Over the ‘splendid wit’
Of potential partners.
I walk through the room
And my shoes lose their shine
As they take it in turns
To ignore the interns.
‘Not enough time
Spent on pressed trouser lines’
Mark the eagle-eyed elderly gentlemen.
I’m back amongst schoolmasters,
Three steps behind
In a ridiculous spin
Of tuxedo-si-do.




