
Poem: Broker
By: JD DeHart
Behind dark glasses,
with a derivative haircut,
slicked back like a government
agent on a Saturday morning
cartoon,
he looks ready to made a deal,
smoothing out the jagged
edges of bartering.
Maybe a novice negotiator,
maybe barely able to construct
a sentence, but he gives this
impression of silent talent,
closed mouth around a silver
tongue.
A predilection for quick switches,
the just right word,
but he remains silent as we pass by
so we will never know for sure.