These Meetings
My Esteemed Comrades,
Fellow devotees of the Sacred Process -
It feels as though I've never left,
As though we've always been here
Around a table
Inside a room
No windows No doors
Our collective voice falls on my ears
With all the pleasantry
Of sheet metal being slowly torn apart.
We have moved with all the expedition
Of snails racing across arctic tundra mudflats.
Our work is as relevant
As the growth of our toenails.
Our decisions as meaningful
As Babylonian algebra.
Our goals as clear as anyone's could be,
Before their Thorazine wears off.
This has been as much fun for me
As licking salt with a papercut tongue.
I've grown to love these meetings;
They define my life.
I even dream of them.
They are my answer to the great Koan of the Void.
So when I die,
Fill my emptied veins with coffee black as space.
Call a meeting with Supreme Chair God,
To discuss the agenda of my DNA -
Record the Minutes of my life,
Weigh their worth against the sands of time,
Submit them for Review and Approval
To the Creation Committee
Before the universe implodes and the whole thing starts again -
Establish Rules of Order for the Ritual Dance,
The Alpha and Omega Circle of Proceedure,
For the Beginning of the End of the End of the Beginning
Of the
Next
Eternal
Meeting!
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