A Con Game? Poem by Sandra Martyres

The Consultant systematically illuminated
All the darkest recesses of the old office
And smiled cunningly as the worms
Crawled slowly out of the woodwork
Making an unwilling appearance
His plan was seemingly on track
Act One of his mission was complete
He lowered the curtains with aplomb

Act Two would be more complicated
He had to deal with the displaced worms
Placing them in a single can seamlessly
Would definitely be a daunting task
If he were unable to find the right bait
Being resourceful he conjured up a scheme
Every worm who accepted a deep discounted
Stock Option could leave the room quietly.

There was another caveat however
They needed to board the common transport
To take a break at a very snazzy resort
The all too eager greedy worms accepted
Crawling over each other to reach the car
Taking them to a place almost like heaven
But to their dismay they were actually headed
Towards Hell, the white collar workers prison

Act Three was of course the jailer’s affair
He had to make sure that he rounded up
All the worms and placed them in custody
A rather difficult task as they were all literally
Paralysed and in a complete state of shock
How could they, the experts, get conned so easily
So they remained glued to their seats stubbornly
And how the jailer extricated them is another story.