sitting surrounded by smugglers trading formulas
on an airy rooftop veranda
comparing notes on the virtues of human propaganda
as platters of spiced meat circulate
I sort through mixed company as the work marinates,
Ruminating on the restless horizon of moving lights
Soaking in the romanticized allure of unfamiliar sights
Feta overtones & olives everywhere
Paired honey pastries & plates of salad to spare
My head spins from sleepless strain
Stumbling through conversations with familiar refrains
Refracted amongst my elders and peers
My job is to listen as they steer us towards safer harbors,
Through strategic doors
Every idea is a portal to art that shifts scenes
Every brand is just a shared dream
All of us function as gears in this machine
Scheming with separate skill sets
To construct a better team…
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