An Hour and a Half
You wear a tie to these interviews
So they can strap you to the gallows without much delay.
The balding man with tomato cheeks
And facial hair like a stunted Ming emperor
Begins a shaky question
That slips again inside an avalanche
Under the weight of his woes
Heaped heavy by the employee
You discover you’re scrambling through this mudslide to replace.
You make another note
As he states another quote
Loaded with language
That echoes through these halls
Yet finds no home in any dictionary.
Before he locates his question again,
The hour hand signals the interview’s end.
You shake his nicotine-stained hand.
One last question,
Off the record, of course.
He sees you once wrote music reviews.
Apparently, he has another thirty minutes to kill.
This upstanding attorney, you see,
Is a Led head who with time has found
Brooks & Dunn is now more his field.
O, the fun
These gentle inquisitions can yield!