At the wharf where his boat is berthed
the banker sips his second latté
and broadly welcomes the new day.
News from home is not so good,
the dreadful collapse he avoided,
splashed across every page,
his name on everyone’s lips.
The dog, curled in the back, rises
momentarily to sniff the air,
a change in temperature,
maybe a shuffling hungry bear?—
but he looks a million dollars
in his yachting shoes and cap,
preparing instructions for the defence.
Meanwhile in government circles,
rumour has it, he is threatening
to spill the beans and name names,
and everyone knows what that means,
as he snaps back the head
of the mobile and considers
who to ring for the craic.