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O'Hare, a poem by Tony Brewer

by Tony Brewer

His eyes say he was never a boy.
Father swats built confidence.
Backhanded mom for sass.
And all the bullies bigger than him.
Now he pulls down seven
figures taxed down to six.
Earned scowl gouged out of his face.
Broad shoulders chiseled from a gray suit
and blocks of flipped real estate.
Deals struck, drinks poured — boom, done.
Today, third in the first-class line
and pissed he’s not in front.
Sizing up #1 and #2.
Pretty sure he could take them
silently by smartphone and contract.
An elderly couple pre-boarding brushes
past him with their oxygen tanks.
DeKalb cap and floral muumuu.
He considers acquiring
and auctioning their every asset.
But he’s boarding now ahead of me.
The unfair world back on his side.

Bio: Tony Brewer is a poet, spoken word performer, sound effects artist, typesetter, and event producer from Bloomington, Indiana. He chairs the Writers Guild at Bloomington and is executive director of the Spoken Word Stage at the 4th Street Arts Festival. He has 3 books: The Great American Scapegoat, Little Glove in a Big Hand (Plan B Press), and Hot Type Cold Read (Chatter House Press).