When Poets Moonlight as Bond Traders

Men in Brooks Brothers suits every day except the weekend but sometimes on the weekend are derivatives of Wall Street-type options when poetry is not and pipe dreams are pushed aside. We wanted to be poets in our prime focusing on the right rhyme without reason except for art's sake. Do they remember what it was like to shine their own shoes before they started drinking fine wine in Rome or somewhere in Spain? Maybe this writing is in vain and they still remain the same, writing when time permits poeticisms before late dinnas at the local bah, tie undone, suit jacket hung on the back of a bar stool, with a beer next to a plate of chicken wings and mozarella sticks in front of the big-screen plasma teevee where basketball teams of our youth play and we forget what brand shoes we're wearing.