Professionals are sad.
That’s why I fell in love with one.
They make the brakes work and the headlights go on.
Some make sure the headlines are not too terrifying—
The population will go into a panic unless calmed by the sure hand of the professional.
Being a good professional, the dentist has a good sense of humor—
She needs one to get through her days in that lair of pain,
So one night she will be flown by professionals where professionals
Will ensure her vacation will be a lovely one.
The professional will consult budgetary experts before
She explains to the new student body how a failing grade
Could impact a professional career
In the music industry, the art world, and other spheres of the professional realm.
My lover spoke a little ruefully about professional love, making a sad joke
That, as I lay next to her, blankly, in an unprofessional mood, suddenly made me terribly sad.
Professionalism must be the true essence of existence.
I make a grand effort to use commas correctly,
In my escape, here, in this café, with a view outside of slightly ancient houses,
Parking garages, and flags, as I read Dante—his sad descriptions of hell, and the pain.
Even the one who pours my coffee is a professional, with worries
Only professionals know; those who, a little sadly, make sure things run smoothly
In their place of employment, the friendly little café which hides a complexity
Only properly understood by professionals—professionals who might publish professionally
So readers might purchase their ideas and feel a little less confused as they go through their day.
