DIAMOND FACTORY

Frail gold chain circling the fragile ankle
Of a thin woman at fifty six
Hair dyed red to perfection and pride
She's aglow drinking coffee at McDonald's
Two parts hope, one part desire.

Next to her perched on top of a stool
A man of substance in bio and weight
Not a day younger than sixty five
Short sleeved in December - mind you
Picking lint off her coat with clumsy fingers
While slurping a chocolate shake with gusto
His alibi for lust.

Forces twitch for a climax
But we choose peace over victory.

Acrobats would tear limb to limb
If it wasn't for the balance
That froze the gravity.

A peach would explode in a cloud of bees
But for the paste of God
That glues an anger still.

The man and the lady next to him
Would've gone off the edge some time ago
But for the music they hear
Even at a McDonald's
The diamonds are in details
The details are in diamonds.

The world honks beeps and bleeps
Venom cranks up a schedule
With e-mails, ipods and thin blood.
There should've been five wars by now
But for the gold chains around fragile ankles.

Don't tip off your hand
If it's not on fire.

(Copyright 2007 karbon)