the financial advisor

she arrives

in a small car, old,

a Chevrolet?

maybe,

blue smoke belching out

the back pipe.

the windows are rolled

down on this july day. 

ninety in the shade.

she waves

with a pencil

in her small round

hand and gets out.

she has folders under

her arm.

black notebooks full of

laminated sheets

of future earnings.

actuary tables.

stock

predictions, algorithms.

she's sweating.

her clothes too tight.

she's acquired my name

from a friend of a friend,

of a friend.

she wants to be

my new financial advisor,

she wants to

show me the light.