The meeting
Consciousness flakes from the whiteboard,
Like old dried ink.
Pinpoint, monogrammed, cotton shirts,
Dry-cleaned and pressed,
Creases sharp like the blades of commerce.
…
Where are the mammoths musky and great?
Where are the ice fed streams,
To stop the breath?
Where are the herds, close in their soiled skins?
The shared experience?
…
The algae bubbling stew on the raining plains,
Of early earth.
That DNA bubbles still in my brain,
The germs of life,
The chaos of existence,
Lassoed, corralled and tensely managed,
To our purpose.
…