You are the bed we’d

happily have slept in,

if only we’d managed to

assemble you

but there was always a bit

missing.

So you forced us to spend

the night

admiring the pictures

in the brochure

The exquisite wrapping

on a box with zilch in it

except a mildly amusing

joke

you had written for you

but delivered with such

charisma

it set people whispering

that you’re the political

wing

of Earth, Wind, and Fire

without the heavy ideology

The skinny kid

with the funny name who

dared

hope in the face of

adversity

and on your watch

Wall Street got the biggest

hard-on in its history

and you kept feeding it

interest-free Viagra.

For the rest of us

you’re the medicine

that tasted excellent

until we woke up almost

dead.

KEVIN HIGGINS