CONFESSION

He comes into the Macdonalds
wearing a three piece Armani
suit and carrying a black attaché case.

We see him check his watch
(it looks expensive),
glance peevishly at the harried mother
herding three pre-schoolers
to the seat next to his
where he sits eating
his Egg Macmuffin and scanning
the Wall Street Journal,
and, when it beeps,
snap open his cell phone
and say half a dozen words
to the caller.

We watch him take another
quick swallow of coffee
then scuttle out the door
to his gleaming silver
BMW and place the case and cup
on the roof, bend over to retrieve
something that has fallen
to the ground, get in,
close the door, back up
and glide away.
The last we see of him
and the BMW
the case and cup are still sitting
in their place on the roof.

I’m ashamed to say
we fervently hope
they both stay there
till he hits the Interstate.