The One Who Owns The City

after many tear stained prayers and emotionally-provocative meetings where the sweet-tempered secretary had to step in to prevent a decimation, long after our entrepreneurs’ first risk, he could gaze out the glass-tower’s windows upon The City. his hours of labor his carefully planted flattery his kindly donations and weekend conference calls, all resulted in the procurement of CEO those 3 letters that filled his heart, completed his self-esteem, boosted his professional pride the level-39 allowed a broad view of Nashville where even the murky river was in sight, swelled with melted-snow and the sun did not shine through his scraper to pierce his eyes and ruin his view. A content, nirvanic look swept across his features his eyes closed on the piqued view, his thoughts meandered to and fro he recalled the wrong-side-of-town-bar where it had all begun, over shots of vodka and a game of pool he mentally backtracked to the long table, at which he’d attended countless meetings, pitched countless sales, hounded countless investors he reminisced on the first presentation he’d conducted, and after, how his boss had held him up for a half hour, as he stood listening to an in-depth assessment of the plans, the big plans, the dreams, the future that his boss saw for the company. Ah…the company…the Company around a table in a normal diner three men, brothers, discuss debate complaints sprout frequently no question penetrates because all statements consist only of detached opinions in the world of business you cannot tread too carefully and you cannot try hard enough to not offend anyone who might come into contact with your product. several women perch, drinks in hand, smiles plastered they share openly of goings-on. children flit through the conversation new purchases bragged of job stress is a common topic but not their job stress, no, they haven’t held a job in decades, no, it’s that of their husbands, their Company husbands whose job stress soaks through their skin and suits and infects the marriage and the house and the family and the life that they always talk of living but can never seem to live this all the women share. no marriage hardship dares to surface and that death of the long-term family member is a secret for closed doors the rebellious child remains a discarded topic, for he failed the family ambitions, he deserves no prayer and he already shamed his Company father. no member of this family, this Company, dares to challenge his brother out of the conventionality or to break the chain of command where orders are barked incessantly and blame is smeared on the lowest workers first all the Company men are trapped contained in their surface world. all problems, issues forever fated to be suppressed. this is the Company that crosses his newly-promoted mind and a brief, very brief, grimace hovers but the phone rings and the moment carries itself far from the buzz down the river of innovation