Here it is December 31 and this is the last poem of the year. Because this is such an auspicious occasion, I am delivering an opus of intrigue and mystery. It’s all hush-hush, wink-wink, in-between the lines stuff. Although I share my writings with my colleagues when it is on the up and up, occasionally I address “sensitive” topics that might ruffle the feathers of the big birds. By posting on this blog, it becomes readable in the public domain, and thus, I must drop to the level of subterfuge, to disguise my message.

And I do like to dabble in nonsense, and see what comes out of it. Happy New Year!!!

Hush-Hush

This might be my last chance
To put this in writing,
I’m past the moment of boldness
But it’s time for indicting,
Exposing the infractions
Wherever they be,
It could have been you
Instead, it is me.

It’s the duty of the press
To find the rarest detail,
Which is sometimes so obscure
You might think you’re in retail,
Coordinating the castoffs
In the dressing room hamper,
Or getting lost like a rookie
In a Winnebago camper.

To dig up what’s hidden
Requires secret knowledge,
In the realm of the professional
We’re talking about college,
You can’t play in this sandbox
Without having some creds,
And the dress code is such
You can’t show up in dreads.

Details so abstruse
You need a submarine,
To fathom the depths
For the truth to come clean,
A buried conspiracy
Fourteen layers deep,
The story of the year
And we’ve all been asleep.

Money on the bottom
Money on the top,
Dollars without sense
On a roll and just can’t stop,
With reams of regulations
And adjustments to the build,
Hush-hush secret meetings
Between the masters of the guild.

Undercover gatherings
Messages in dead-drops,
Who would ever guess
They congregate in head shops,
Monthly new directives
Provided with pearls and pomp,
Wrapped in shameless packaging
And delivered with a stomp.

The story of the year
You must read between the lines,
Like you, I need to stay employed
And avoid those nasty fines.

Fibril_late;
12/31/10