The Reckoning

In these fractions I seek solace
That infarction is no menace
To my own unknown condition
Though my colleague lies on trollies
As they fill her veins with serum
Hoping vasos are dilated
I’m surrounded by the vision
Such careers are overrated
In my secretary’s costume
I must take on further duties
Try to prop up one more rostrum
And ignore last rites for loot. He’s
Working from his home computer
While I ride the bus to nowhere
In the misty morning chatter
That’s conceived to make me go there
How much more am I allotted?
This existence, mere survival
Will I too go out, garotted
By a heart attack unrivalled?
As my logic fails, convince me;
I’ve decisions that are burning
Every inch would rather lynch me
Than continue painful earning.

Although I rarely explain my scribblings, as I prefer to let the reader interpret them at will, this poem, and the one that follows are written in response to a recent event. The woman with whom I share a desk at my day job suffered a heart attack this week. The events on that occasion and which have followed have caused me to question our place in the universe with perhaps more focused ferocity than usual.

Untitled

This is the place we come to die
We secretaries, in our rows
Two frozen stiffs, a living lie
Few care to note, and no one knows.

While patient, we sit out our time
In managing capricious men
Whose fruitless whims, though not malign
Wear lines on brows and fray each hem.

One more may chew on dust this hour
No more to block electric space
In diary; a heart lacks power
To beat a path through empty wastes.

We are not dumb, and yet, we wait
Preparing meeting rooms, hot drinks
Awaiting proof; appreciate
A mind, unheeded, soul that shrinks

And though the autopsy infers
What killed her was nobody’s fault
That one can prove, (except for hers)
With such a sedentary vault

Of memories of closet, desk,
A filing cabinet to store
The means of murder – this slow death
Made up of tedium and chore.

Something to show for it

Oh, no! I’ll assume something totally wrong
For I lack self-control and I cannot deny it
My interests lean to the venal and long
May my silence continue, I’ll try to keep quiet

But sometimes the need to exclaim all at once
When my mouth gets ahead of my brain, I admit it
Can give the impression I’m thoughtless and dense
As words slip past my censor and blurt through my lipstick

I’m careful, not careless; I pay close attention
Avoiding glib phrases and skirting pretence
Sincere of ambition, diffusing all tension
A guard on my tongue but no end to offence

You’d never imagine… I couldn’t believe it!
My opening gambit, caught sight of a plate
An idiot’s here, I can scarcely conceive it
How could I come out with such ejaculate?

An ass just addressed in the major and minor
The whole of the room with today’s foolish bray
I don’t understand why my inner designer
Won’t work with my editing suite as they say

I’ll sit in the corner, projecting ambivalence
Try to ignore just how rosy the glow
My face is on fire with the sum of my brilliance
Perhaps I’d be better to grab coat and go?

We set up this meeting and hoped for clear visions
But as I just proved I’m inept and half-cocked
It might be more prudent to postpone decisions
Until I’ve recovered composure and tact

One lump, or two?

Please, somebody make a decision
Before it falls farther than Fate
It cannot be me, you’re the boss, don’t you see?
Pretty soon it will all be too late

I’m only insisting to help us
Criticism’s not part of the plan
I don’t give a toss which you choose – you’re the boss
(Though we all get to carry the can)

It’s pointless, this endless debating
We’ve heard all the pros and the cons
You are dragging your feet in the chairman’s high seat
While morale at the company bombs

It’s hardly a life or death question
There won’t be a test at the end
Kindly pull up your socks, or you’re in for some shocks
From each stakeholder, colleague and friend

It’s not like there is a ‘right’ answer
So taking forever won’t do
The longer you leave it, the less we’ll believe that
The person who chose it was you

Teddy Bears’ Picnic

Carnage in the clearing
Sticky pools of who-knows-what
As cautiously we’re steering
Fears of claws and teeth in gut

I am left with just the remnants
Of their jolly morning jaunt
Picking teabags off each surface
Like a soggy, stringy taunt

You’d think the place was burgled
By the mess the creatures made
Leaving stains across the tables
And a ‘message’ in the glade

Sure, this was no children’s outing
Though they’d sandwiches and toys
More a bored board meeting’s pouting
Grumbling grizzlies making noise

As the bears scoffed, hale and hearty
Dropping food upon the floor
Then departing as a party
Slothful sleuth linked, paw in paw

Lumber over plates and teaspoons
Picking up and throwing out
I must tidy up these festoons
Ere the second sitting’s bout

The bored minuter’s waltz

I am not the enemy
I write down what you say
If you prefer machines to me
Then that is quite okay

Just buy yourself a Dictaphone
Rely on cold hard fact
To show you up for what you are
A self-important prat

If you despise the notes I take
Then you are more than welcome
To opt for less diplomacy
And hear the drivel spoken

I shall not be offended –
Switch to electronic means
Your meeting’s open-ended
So just lock up when you leave