Bottom Line
by Eric Miller
I’m always
asked “what is the bottom line?”
But usually the answer I can’t
refine
Because it always depends on a number of
things
Which move the line like it was on
springs
Up it bounces; then it drops
Until it finally stops
In a place where you can see
Just what the answer might actually be
But it wiggles, shifts, and slides
And on that is what the answer rides
But usually to a setting sun
Under which I’m left holding the gun |
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