Creatures

You smile like a ledger balanced in red

Soft hands on the latch,

soft shoe on the stair

You call it appetite,

I call it a trade You dine with your teeth behind somebody

else's name A room full of silverware,

polished and clean Every grin has a corner too sharp to be

seen You measure the kindness,

then bill by the hour You water the garden and salt every

flower And all that civility hangs by a wire A polite little

language for profit and fire You dress up the hunger,

you wipe off the blade

Everybody feeds with a delicate grin Knife and a necktie,

let the feast begin Say it's only business,

say it's only need Underneath the table,

watch the clean hands feed Everybody feeds,

everybody bows Mercy is expensive and nobody pays now

The market loves a saint with a private vice A sermon in

the daylight, at midnight a price You laugh through the numbers,

you rinse and repeat Leave a line of empty plates all over

the street

Predator manners in tailored restraint A beautiful fraud with the breath of

a saint Teeth in the velvet Blood in the

deal

You call it

order

Until it is real (ahhh)

Now the room

goes still

And the silver looks cheap

You swallow the dark

And it does not

sleep