Beware The Body Greed

2 ghosts got the body greed
on a gelatinous night loved so
by the deceased. A sick planet
coughs out cigarette smoke
into intermitten fog the spent
color of ash and old dreams
of the wandering dead,
as treacheries come alive.
2 brothers walk along.
The short one was a banker,
state’s best in evictions,
genius who cut the budget
for the bulletproof glass
the head teller begged for.
She was shot just last month
by a man made chicken noises,
as his head leaked the green goo
that lubricates scrape of mind
against the way we all behave
as if a guy could shift an engine
into interstellar space
when he meant to just reverse,
then drive away.
One brother couldn't ever get enough.
“I got some money for you now,” said
the banker. “Maybe some next month,
but, Josh, I can’t be the government.
I don’t operate on luck."
“What do you want, Arn?
A pledge of rough and tough?
I swear to not collapse?
Man, I can’t give you that!”
“No. No. Just sign this.”
As he pulled an envelope
from his blue suit pocket,
soul doors opened wide
on the despair and distrust,
and both ghosts got a body!
One ghost screamed of mortal rage.
One ghost screamed of mortal rage.