They were deciding
who would be elected this year.

They talked until the smoke-filled
board room was ankle deep in
metaphors and allegories, but they
just shifted their feet and talked on.

They didn't attempt to take cover
from the hail of cliches that bounced
from the walls; one highly placed
politician failed to notice one in his
chicken-a-la-king, and, ostrich-like,
swallowed it whole.

When the meeting ended, the chosen
one, too proud to ask for a doggy-bag,
and making sure no saw him doing it,
sneaked four metaphors, two allegories,
and a handful of cliches into his briefcase
to be used later in his campaign.