deepundergroundpoetry.com
Halos & Happenstance
Hello, Mam. I have an appointment
Without looking up she presses a button and speaks
"Your two O'clock is here. Should I send him in?"
There is no response
As I walk in and slide demurely into the plush,
high-backed chair across from you
I wonder
When did it all become just so much business between us?
Atop your wide, dark-stained, solid oak desk
A plaque displays your name in tasteful, bold letters
and directly under that, your prestige
From this highly coveted corner office you have a striking view
of the manufactured duck pond below and your private parking space
in the guarded lot that houses your newly-waxed exotic sports car
You are intently scanning your paperwork
and in the quiet all I hear is the ticking of your gilded Swiss timepiece
that sits on the edge of your desk opposite the plaque, facing my seat
to remind anyone sitting where I am that your time is valuable
and their's... is limited
Behind you, on the antique Victorian bar
Pictures of you and your family on some island beach
A paradise of white sands and crystal clear waters
Smiling,
Happy,
Successful,
...Fulfilled.
You haven't acknowledged me yet
Still editing
Making changes
Choices
Writing things to be the way you want them
Slowly
With attention to detail and desired outcome
and your very expensive pen
Gold casing
Engraved
Smooth flowing ink
...never breaking lines
Around your wrists
Smooth cotton cuffs held closed by gold cuff-links
set with square-cut onyx stones
Your powder blue oxford shirt
Charcoal grey trousers, vest, and jacket
Red monogrammed power tie held properly
by a tie clip that matches the cuff-links
(And the pen)
All imported.
The price tag...
Unimportant.
To you, at least.
These are just the details of your life
But their absence in mine stings
Consumes me, while I sit here and wait
And watch for you to finish
putting your signature at the bottom of each page
Your metaphorical red wax and stamp
That gives your word to someone's Fate
A platinum banded, diamond studded
Custom-made original one-of-a-kind wristwatch
crafted by some master-of-his-trade
Whose name I can't pronounce
(Yet another person totally unaware of my existence)
Loosely clasped around your wrist
Echoing the sentiment of your other clocks persistent beat
Conducting our business in such a timely fashion
That's its driving me mad
Quietly
Because you have the pen,
And the papers,
And the time,
...that I do not.
And you still have not acknowledged me
Sitting in this (YOUR) plush, high-backed chair
I had an appointment
And there is still no response
Without looking up she presses a button and speaks
"Your two O'clock is here. Should I send him in?"
There is no response
As I walk in and slide demurely into the plush,
high-backed chair across from you
I wonder
When did it all become just so much business between us?
Atop your wide, dark-stained, solid oak desk
A plaque displays your name in tasteful, bold letters
and directly under that, your prestige
From this highly coveted corner office you have a striking view
of the manufactured duck pond below and your private parking space
in the guarded lot that houses your newly-waxed exotic sports car
You are intently scanning your paperwork
and in the quiet all I hear is the ticking of your gilded Swiss timepiece
that sits on the edge of your desk opposite the plaque, facing my seat
to remind anyone sitting where I am that your time is valuable
and their's... is limited
Behind you, on the antique Victorian bar
Pictures of you and your family on some island beach
A paradise of white sands and crystal clear waters
Smiling,
Happy,
Successful,
...Fulfilled.
You haven't acknowledged me yet
Still editing
Making changes
Choices
Writing things to be the way you want them
Slowly
With attention to detail and desired outcome
and your very expensive pen
Gold casing
Engraved
Smooth flowing ink
...never breaking lines
Around your wrists
Smooth cotton cuffs held closed by gold cuff-links
set with square-cut onyx stones
Your powder blue oxford shirt
Charcoal grey trousers, vest, and jacket
Red monogrammed power tie held properly
by a tie clip that matches the cuff-links
(And the pen)
All imported.
The price tag...
Unimportant.
To you, at least.
These are just the details of your life
But their absence in mine stings
Consumes me, while I sit here and wait
And watch for you to finish
putting your signature at the bottom of each page
Your metaphorical red wax and stamp
That gives your word to someone's Fate
A platinum banded, diamond studded
Custom-made original one-of-a-kind wristwatch
crafted by some master-of-his-trade
Whose name I can't pronounce
(Yet another person totally unaware of my existence)
Loosely clasped around your wrist
Echoing the sentiment of your other clocks persistent beat
Conducting our business in such a timely fashion
That's its driving me mad
Quietly
Because you have the pen,
And the papers,
And the time,
...that I do not.
And you still have not acknowledged me
Sitting in this (YOUR) plush, high-backed chair
I had an appointment
And there is still no response
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