Because he has gone
to dinner parties
in squalid apartments
and homes without pillars
and we hope for
economic genius
and we hope for
cool under pressure,
but what we know is that
this guest
helped clear the table
rolled up his sleeves
squirted aquamarine dish liquid
into a sinkful of hot water
and immersed his hands.
This poem appears in the Internet issue of cc&d magazine, v193 (February 2009):
http://scars.tv/ccdissues/ccd193feb09/ccd193feb09.htm
