Early Morning Speakeasy

Tell me you’re the owner of this seedy speakeasy

The one playing the sole waiter

Cruising around the tables

Mustering up orders from the sole customer

For you as the sole bartender.

Tell me you put on late night/early morning girlie shows

Loving to exploit the dead movie idols of the black and white era.

Tell me your office is upstairs

And not down deep in the rat and cockroach domain.

Tell me bearded Russian thinkers are your silent partners

And an evil looking creature is your doorman named Lenin.

Tell me Confucius is coming tonight.

Is F Scott Fitzgerald?

Tell me you have an immortal soul

I’ll tell you you may have none

For you throw a see-through pair of dice

Long after your floating delusional utopia closes.

Beware…

Have you considered transparency is an endangered principal in tomorrow’s history?