CHAIRMAN OF THE BOARD

Like God in Genesis,
he walks aisles
between cubicles,
his Eden. Adams
and Eves procreate
trainees and products
to populate his world.
He blesses us with
his presence before returning
to upper floor firmaments.
We wait for him to leave,
praying we can find
an archangel with flaming
sword to stand at elevators
and prevent his return.

COMING OUT

Deodorants mask earthly
odors beneath clothing layered
over bare skin. Haircut
molds heads into a message,
prim and proper, fashionable,
or a clean-shaved reflection
of an empty sky. After a shave
and cologne, faces enter
old worlds, bared to wind's
hot breath, leaving eyes
to wander, too open
for interpretation,
averted in elevators.
Nothing to hide behind,
eyes fear someone will
recognize the little boy
who remains inside,
desiring only an open door
and an escape into crowds
where everyone smells the same.

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