As he's pouring the tea, you consider his past;
Not enough to refuse, but enough to consider
The tea might be spiked with a pesticide poison.
You are filled up with honey, with violin dreams,
Though the others are cautious, unmoved by the music
His daughter must rock from the instrument's cradle.
Then the drinks get much stronger—there's laughter and gin
As he takes out mahogany cases with pistols
All nestled inside—they're asleep but will waken.
Then the others all draw out their weapons, from knives
To a phone that's connected to orbiting angels;
A press of a button delivers a missile.
If their fashion's impressive, if leathery shoes
Look enticing; they cut it off soles of a human
Who died in a war that preceded this evening.
They're old chums, they're competitors playing the cards
For advantage and willing to cheat the whole table
To win for an evening; to die in the morning.
"A noisy band of dissenters, many of them economists from outside the Continent, issued a warning: the euro was doomed to struggle, they proclaimed, maybe not immediately but certainly before long. Different countries would pursue such different economic policies, they argued, that it would ultimately place an unbearable strain on the currency and some of its members. "
—LANDON THOMAS Jr., Published: December 28, 2010
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