(the office of the 'Athens Gazette')
The sports reporter scoffs French fries
as if his life depends on it, and sated,
falls asleep on his computer.
The music expert spends the nights
in lonely bars, disconsolate;
the women almost work themselves to death.
The pagemakers wear masks
of chronic weariness, and stubbled cheeks:
stoics conditioned by a heartless press.
The ringmaster, once leonine,
a lean and mean and hungry beast
whose twitching tail is feared more
than the lash, bares yellowed teeth.
Smoke rises from untidy desks
as from a ship that's sinking fast,
taking all hands on its burning deck...