Just tell the lovely ladies of the Auxiliary,
that I’m here to speak to the reports of my demise,
which are being grossly inflated,
I’ve been working undercover
for years now,
only Intuition and Conscience knew.
Work Ethic and I
are at a crowded Penn Station,
standing in front of the Big Board,
waiting for our track to flash.
It’s tight at our table,
unknown parts of the same group,
face to face, and she wants to
teach me to drink Cognac.