Friday, August 28, 2015

The Job


It was going together according
To their prescription, their plan,
But I didn’t trust what I saw,
What I was seeing and said so –
Wouldn’t sign it off, told them
To taste it if they didn’t believe
Me and some of them did.

That changed things; slowed them
Down and brought them to a halt.
I sat there while they procrastinated
And searched for someone to blame
Knowing they wanted to blame me
Despite my being the one who drew
Attention to the problem. They wanted

It to belong to someone else.  I sat
There knowing the problem was
In the composition, the lack of
Knowledgeable sense during the
Combining of the ingredients,
The use of inept workers instead
Of sensitive artists and technicians,

But I had no credibility being
The one who voiced the criticism.
“Bring me solutions not problems”
Was their dictum; so I sat silent
And still while they revisited
Their plans and schedules
Looking at each other, seeking

To shift the project away, down
The hall and out into Assembly.
I wouldn’t sign off on that either so
They dithered till it was time to go.
I went too, like them, all of us
Obeying the rules.   I rode home in a
Blinding rain, smiling inside my helmet.

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