They swagger, these gifts of the gods Draped in Savile Row Handmade brogues squeaking Signalling their advance Sleek terminals flashing green and red The latest billions to be made Orchestrated by one perfectly manicured digit A rarefied world, this domain of the trader Tiger women diluting the testosterone just enough To become the next female BSD. (I don’t have the balls In all senses of the word). They all walk and talk a good game Ride the highs and lows with aplomb Possessing animalistic grace, a certain panache Revelling in the glory, drowning the losses in Moët & Chandon Or inside their bonus-bought classic car Seats rubbed smooth with 90mph sex and cocaine Shagging the pressure away in a City side street. Rare beasts, these, Stalking, hunting down that one trade Chasing mammon, winner takes all But I wonder, when it comes down to it When I see those who drew the short straw Carrying their belongings in a cardboard box Incongruously shabby against their Cartier adornments Leaving their ivory tower for the last time Facing down the cameras as journalists hunt in packs Trading titillation for the headline news I wonder – do they think it was worth it, after all? Probably.
This week, Brian, our host at dVerse Meeting the Bar wants us to consider character – something more akin to penning short stories and novels, rather than poetry. Fabulous! I love a challenge!
My take is all about that much-maligned character, the City trader. I have worked in the Square Mile since last century (no, really!) and have met and seen a few in my time. Some are as bad as the press paints them, many are not. All of them have guts, that’s for sure! I haven’t based my poem on anyone in particular – consider it an amalgamation of many traits I have seen (in traders and other types) over the years.
I hope you enjoy my offering – and please do join us! The hosts all work extremely hard to make the community a success.
Watch your humans sit down – Woof! – we jump to our feet
to pour out your water and open the door
You know what you want, sometimes we’re not sure
You’re not so demanding, we just need to know
Your presence is a gift that you kindly bestow
One inscrutable look and we soon understand
You’re the top dog, the queen, you rule this fair land
Most dear Fuji-san, honoured Fuji-sensei
You are the true mistress of all you survey!
This is an ode to the majestic lady who takes centre stage above. I have recently been allowed to take up residence in her home, feed and water her and generally fulfil her needs. She is a bit of a charmer and I’m not sure I would like to know what she thinks of me! Fuji (named for the photographic film brand, not the mountain!) is a venerable Newfoundland, a true grande dame!
I will link up to the dVerse Open Link Night later today. Please do visit to enjoy some very fine poetry indeed – and be inspired… Join us!