"Daily I Fall out of Love with Investment Bankers"

in response to Daily I Fall in Love with Mechanics by Susan Thurston and Daily I Fall in Love with Waitresses by Elliot Fried---published by Gloomcupboard

Daily I fall out of love with investment bankers
with their vanity license plates
2BG2FAIL MNYNPWR HOTSTOK
and fat rubber tires.
I hate how they bend over numbers
massaging their internal models.
Their hand-tailored Italian suits jockey behind Chinese walls
like ginned up bulls
hang around the financial district-
shards of broken dreams.
I feel their hard money
primed with a steady stream of funds
slide over me.
Their hands lithe and subtle
keep moving so . . . 
misdirecting and pilfering so unnoticeably 
that I am left insensible, defenseless. 
Daily I fall out of love with investment bankers
with their scheming quant buddies.
They sell secrets in the backroom
and I want them.
I don't know them.
They tranche securities
their legs triple-A-rated prime.
They have spouses or lovers or hookers
or all.
They are off-balance-sheet smug --
they know how naked credit default swaps work.
Their unnaturally white smiles
distract you from the fine print.
Daily I fall out of love with investment bankers
They buy you steak and get you drunk
but they never see you safely home
as they take the money and run run run.

 

Reviews

[Stabitha]

Oh, very good! Tight, well-developed, clever twist on Romantic poetry to make a contemporary comment. You should send this to The Guardian.