No Charity in the Islands
To the drivers of ceaseless elevators,
Nothing is “no sweat.”
They hunt quarks in the coliseum.
They never assume parade rest.
They could stand to croon the hesitation blues.
Not a chance to be shy.
In bathrooms, they replace neon
With high-intensity lamps.
A great fear of being automatic
Bangs at sea-coral brains.
—Paul Marion (c) 2018