If they gave a Nobel Prize

 

If they gave a Nobel Prize

for obscene wealth
this man would be on the short list
but I can’t complain, after all he hired me
to build a cabinet with, ahem, discretion,
if you catch my drift, and to style it
with a certain je ne sais quoi of bullshit
that appeals to men who have a genius for money.

So I work with my assistant, Jamal, who
has a genius for unlocking magic in trees.
Jamal’s lineage, uncommon. He’s a shaman.
Together we apply rare imported hardwoods,
afromosia to bubinga to zebrawood
crafting a glass-fronted showcase
to display exquisite ivory carvings
which for top dollar we swear never to mention
because, perhaps, it is less than legal
to slaughter protected animals.

In the final assembly atop Nob Hill
Jamal in a trance mumbles mutterings
to exotic lumber. I don’t ask why or how
when the wood starts to tremble in our hands,  
to burn scorch marks on my fingertips
but maybe that’s the essence
of je ne sais quoi.

A week of peace. Then comes the night
of full moon in San Francisco
when beasts arise out of cabinets.
Walrus, elephant, narwhal
burst the glass, smash the furniture,
running amok and afar
chased by security guards
across the Golden Gate.
My check has cleared, Jamal was paid.
It is not our problem.

……

From my book Foggy Dog
First published in MOON Magazine
photo by Chris 1010 on pixabay