Office Politicians

Poem By Diana van den Berg

Strips of tear-smeared soul and heart strung high
in the full force and effect
of the office air-conditioning
while the crazed wild pack,
cold, hard, cruel and each with their own agenda,
some of which are beyond comprehension,
as one, they attack, again and again and again,
twisting and lungeing,
at the flank, in the foot, in the face,
ripping more strips,
hungrily, unfairly, mercilessly
and without warning, compassion or logic,
my ingrained principles preventing their exposure.
… and afterwards, on a lucky occasion,
a hug and a teaspoon of remorse
from the second-most wild, cunning, and self-righteous
… and then hours of
defenceless
empty
aching
unjust
exhaustion into the small hours.

Oh Jesus, how much it must have taken to say,
“God forgive them, for they know what they do.”

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