Sitting at the table, suited

in supposed Perspiration and Perseverence.

Order a fine glass of Initiative

to go with your Hard-Work

medium rare.

Pick at your Capitol white-teeth.

smoking aged success imported from The Sweat of Those

Beneath You.

But Henry stays in the kitchen, washing his hands

with “Incompetence”

Leave, not leaving a tip

Just don’t be surprised by a spoonful of spit

The next time you sit down to dine.

You may not have belief in greed and sin

but Darwin

did not drive nails through

his palms

nor put psalms

or f-bombs

into his evolutionary equation.

Cuz after hours, Henry suits Him self up

with Personality and Perspective.

And the Henry’s out there

choose to see.

You see

because they are shape shifters

truth sifters

Drifters

in search of the beauty in You.

They see

that babies cry at baptisms in

protest of their forced

admission into congregations of fear.

Fear of aimless wandering, of

falling off the edge

of the flattening world and its approaching

horizons.

From corner to corner he dances. The kind

of dance you do in the privacy of your leather bound

life.

Along the way he seeps into the pores

of the people and only demands reciprocation.

Along the way there are

rows of bongs

But through the throngs

of what’s why’s and when’s

there are people

playing love songs

righting wrongs

and breathing in the words flowing from

the tongues of others

dancing to their own soundtracks

yet dancing together.

Along the way it is not the song he sings

but the ear he brings

for all the earth to fill.

Some listen to the voice of reason.

some only listen to their own voices

thinking it the same.

They listen to you.

We can listen too.

Henry returns next morning a minute or two late.

Suits up.

Enjoy your meal.