a fair exchange

a service on a plate, with dressing on the side. yesterday it was caustic, today quite mellow. the smile only comes when there is splashes of silver at the other end; tit for tat, numbers are crunched the moment a pen whiffs out - like smoke appearing, taking form; today is a fantastic day when silver becomes gold. spring is in the air, with peacocks spreading their haughty tails, the goods are packed with certified third party checkers. items are added accordingly. everyone can take a slice, just make sure the payment goes through when a credit card is terminated, the items become a lawsuit. already consumed, a bad check, a frown, a sigh - does not buy pardon. a transaction, surely it does not get easier than a, b, c when the crooked man straightens up to grin, a wallet empty, tried to explain away why. a court order still demands payment. a tug of wall, an upsell, a bad service, a tainted product. now the mailbox is full, with letters of every kind, some spam, mostly coming from the sheriff's office. smiles have most definitely stopped now, when it is quite apparent the man has gone broke! suddenly the comforting words fade, an inside out - and inside is not pretty. a venom of untold wrath, each smile was daggers kept inside the chest. burst open. spilled secrets, blood, comforting words become accusations. i had to for the money. whose a friend now? transactional relationships, the cracks show when surface is scrubbed. like a slot machine, the wheels keep turning as long as the coins drop in, pay a visit to did you bring the cash? no one's about, when the belt is tight, they are all about, when the money flows like wine. inebriated yet? a dance, a hop, a tap tap with the cane. the slot machine is all about random strikes. take a hit. it feels more akin to the truth, you know - how things actually work. hey - if i were a rich man, i'll say this too: work hard, save. no free lunch. is that how the rich got rich? and it becomes quite obvious - not always, maybe that is why politics is something often tossed under the rug, it's ugly once the cat is let out of the bag. so everyone these days rather talk about the weather, it's safe, it's polite, it allows for relationships without depth. depth is sorely missing these days. it's like this pressure valve, more and more steam built up, till the smiles finally stop. it's pointless. it's silly. i ask how you are, you ask how i am. we both do not mean it. why bother? the truly important things goes to what we do each day, the smiles, the handing over of cash, all this -- transaction --- because it's a fair exchange. and the soul seeks - finding vacant vacant. restless. gets cheap hostels that never give heat, give what a soul actually needs. fake products, this world works unlike the other one. curls up like a fetal, impoverished. spirits meet spirits - and they cut beneath flesh, cut the surface, into the heart. a soul weighed - the misjudged devil gives his 2 cent's worth, misjudged since flesh has been following him faithfully all this time. maybe flesh too is misjudged, but the philosophers have all stopped debating too since they - too were being scrutinized. the silence was eternity, and a fair exchange no longer applied when slot machines, gold and silver no longer existed. what now? how now? a tapping of the feet, eternity is too long: such impatience! a soul tries to think of some fine arguments as to why. why indeed. the real reason. and that's the heart. it says everything. it's you. and of course now it sees quite clearly why, how, when, what with flesh no longer around to play.