The $300 Fine

In the City...
there’s always a three hundred dollar fine
for two hundred dollar offenses.

I overheard one somewhat three-dimensionally inclined fellow
say that he found people’s enthusiastic involvement with
faddish attempts to be acceptable, not unlike men passionately
clamoring for the last berths on the Titanic, knowing it would
only sink once.

Variety with any boundaries
is not variety.

During the later hours of the company party,
a man from bookkeeping stood and announced,
“I will now make some weird, squeaky noises
with parts of my body normally unused.” 
And his son thought, “Gads that opens up some
frightening possibilities.”

No matter how far you go,
or how much you spend on camouflage,
if you let ‘em know you keep “account books”
they can always find you.

J.