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June 17, 2004 - A poem about Business

Mr Immaterial.

Today, as I stand
here readied to speak
to suits and polished hosts
and aisles smiling hopefully.
I am earnest and they are them.
All fixed gazed in quiet attention
of who knows whom and how
(and why and when and where).
To my air conditioned audience
all card pressed intersection
my whisper now turns full voiced.
I step up to the platform and smile;
“Hello” I say.

“My name … is immaterial”


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