a fresh start

being the entrepreneur
that you are,
you decide to open up
a tattoo removal parlor
on the corner.
surely these people, once
they hit middle
age, and sober up,
when the blues turn
green, the reds a mushy orange,
and the skin
sags, turning words like
respect into
a soft mass of scribble,
surely they'll want me to go
to work on them,
and scrape
the skin clean once more.