you sneak in on foxglove slippers,
when i’m alone, promising a quick fix

for my arrhythmia; a hand-hold
in a cliff-face of expectations 

i never meet.

you only deliver neurotoxin 
that caustically corrupts

the gears within me.
you bribe members of my union

to betray, to withhold work, 
until demands are fulfilled. 

the foreman, the machine of my mind, 
who I once completely trusted, 

proved malleable.

mental metal sculpted to suit
the insatiable pattern of your desire.

perhaps i can subvert
your ingrained authority

with outside investors,
who value what i produce

despite poor projections