A n d r e w C o x My Boss Is Trying to Kill Me For Muse314159 The sky puts on its evening gown and high heels and wonders when the phones will hang up and pay attention The infinite dance floors wait with no concern about how the gutters like bosses fill calendars with invites made from ill will The meeting notices are in revolt but will not play savior to anyone much less stop the leaves from covering everything The airplanes will rise and fall while corporations act like an ugly stranger in the neighborhood offering candy to kids The great muse of Pi will stop the march of the psychopaths but is preoccupied with how parallel lines will never meet A woman will say into a phone I think my boss is trying to kill me and the man on the other end will believe her
|  is now publishing poetry and prose
inspired by these, uh, "tough economic times."
Your editors/mortgage-backed securities managers:
Howie Good, Dale Wisely, F. John Sharp Sister sites: Right Hand Pointing & White Knuckle Press |
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Andrew Cox |