A Poem: Orientation

He used words like robust, timeline, roadmaps, and concrete,

while the audience meditated and prayed,

sifted his empty syllables of bragging and pretending,

rooster prancing and posturing. Façade.

Time settled like dust on lard.

They shrank into themselves, dug deep

like the men paid to burrow a well on the property

and after weeks of drilling sighed in disbelief.

This article appears in December 2013.