Wall Street by Donal Mahoney

Like the poor, the comfortable
you will always have with you.
They hold good jobs, then

get better ones. Like coyotes
they grin and walk slowly
in circles. They hire,

even fire each other.
They wed their own kind
and selectively proliferate.

Theirs is a constant harvest.
Their voices are a sediment,
thickening on everything.

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