Office Poetry from a Time Before Covid
Back before Covid, when I had an office to go to, and when we were still attending conferences for work, I would often be inspired by things that I encountered on a daily basis. Here are a few poems from another era, before social distancing, before full-time remote work, before Zoom meetings were the norm, before we pined for those mundane interactions that would so often annoy us at the time.
--Friday, March 9, 2018 2:10:40 AM, A restaurant on Fremont Street in Las Vegas--
She sat alone at the bar wearing her leather, Buffalo nickel hat, reading a book
The sounds of the Vegas nightlife washing over her, leaving no residue
In a setting of constant motion and commotion she was the calm center of my attention
Chestnut hair,
skin so fair,
casual style,
without a care
An anachronism to the modern crowd and to the tawdry spectacle everywhere you looked
It was too irresistible to keep from dropping a rock into her calm waters
And seeing which way the ripples played
I could have watched them dance across the surface all night
--Friday, March 2, 2018 2:36 PM, in a conference room like so many others--
project my slide deck and my voice
attend the meeting and to the subject being discussed
Deliver results and milestones
My day is awash in verbs
How can there be a glass ceiling
when I have no visibility about what goes on over my head
--The Evils of Starbucks - Friday, January 19, 2018 9:53 AM--
This morning the girl in front of me in the Starbucks
The one with white Doc Martin boots and shiny, silver tights,
The one with the chestnut hair and puffy yellow jacket,
The one who stood a full three inches taller than me,
The girl in the line in front of me in Starbucks
She was wearing an orange knit cap pulled down over her ears
The cap had a hole just above and behind the left temple
An inch long opening that showed the sheen of her hair underneath.
I took a step to the right and leaned around
Looking for a matching hole in her cap on the right side
Certain that the holes were not by chance
Wondering if she bought the cap to fit her horns,
Or if her horns made the holes.
And I wondered what kind of latte a devil would get.
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