In the business of things that don’t earn you much
I am a dandelion and you are a symphony
We both live long interrupted lives of flight and bumblebee cacophony
The similarities are striking
And so is the Lightning

In the business of things that don’t earn you much
A smile is up for sale on the snail market
Things are slow and progressive
But we live day to day
One breath at a time
Holding onto the dirt and calling it home
We are nomads
No match for our treacherous selves that betray us out of place
We are extroverts
Open minded and confident when discussing our introversion

In the business of things that don’t earn you much
We are jackpots and potholders
Boiled streaks of golden seeds too good for investment and too wide for parliament seats
The only representation our tongues receive is that which falls on our cheeks

In this business we are not efficient
We are not affluent
You have nothing to spare
And much left to the uncertainty
Of hope