A slip of tongue

Fat, moist, and trembling

pushing out sounds that shouldn't be uttered

but the voice heard is 'in charge'

ripping into tender flesh

stolen plans

inflated outcomes

misaligned results

terrifying in its descent

the last check

mama ain't mention this...

an open wound that can't be filled by dollar signs

and what comes next is more than sorrow

swallowed whole by a bureaucratic appetite

crumbs that disappear in the jowls of assimilation

Digested

but still in progress

lost

adrift in what used to belong

but still trying to fit, even though the fabric itches

squeezed into stilettos that click with razor precision

on the cracked grounds of "i made it!"

tugged forward by power suits and 'maybe's'

take off the mask

let the curtain rise on the minstrel show.

start over

but don't begin at the beginning

climb

and at the ascent--compare the apple to the orange

hard or soft

win or loss

both are sweet.