Dressed Like Zombies

A necktie dangles like punctuation,  

Catches itself inside closing elevator doors, 

rises horizontally. 

Metal bearings

Swell against wire rope and transmit echoes of shrills

Throughout the ride. Rose petals touched by epoxy resin 


Where a face used to be. 

A face that had laughter, 

Had winks and blinks

And jokes too. 

Corporate P.R. establishes 

“Dressed to kill” as business casual.  

Suicidal formalwear 

Takes it to new heights. 

Obligated conversation embraces trade secrets into primary colors. Red whispers splice the speak stream, divvy out small talk, hoping to offset million dollar ideas with loose-change-dreams

A ping alerts those along for the ride, 

A face is there to greet them at the end.

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