Meeting Poetry originated in the havens of New York City’s court system as I was sitting in Jury Duty two years ago. Human entertainment and bureaucracy was amusing me and words started pouring out for no rhyme or reason. I dubbed these words strung together: Jury Duty Poetry. Since it would be years before I was dazzled by the likes of our judicial system again, I took this approach with many corporate meetings that followed.
Here was the flagship piece:
Jury Duty Poetry
And so it goes…
A good story gives you a little leeway
Fists serve as armrests
Follow the perforations
to the echoes of ripping.
Ear buds shut the noises out,
newspaper ink smears my fingers,
stiletto heels provide percussion…
to an otherwise mind-numbing hum of the fan –
with the brief interlude of crinkling paper.
Stale air lingers all around;
a few random bursts of cologne both tickle and taunt my nose hairs.
Shifting weights from left to right to balance the arms crossed under your breast
the letters form strings of words that twist around and reveal
Life’s constant search for a happy ending.
A rainbow of lipstick marks dot the tops of Starbucks cups surrounding the room.
Glances around the room reveal piercing eyeballs on your tits
A unique place with unique people
Coffee breaks as a springboard for productivity
The plastic cutlery dissects the stale pastry with surgical precision
Apricot jam spread on like salve on the flaking skin.
Lottery selection allows some a purpose
While others tap their feet
Scratch their itches
The crotch, the pimple on the check, a newly coiffed hairstyle.
Eyelids grow heavy,
nails taste tempting,
bathroom journeys provide a welcome respite from the mundane orchestra of life in a jury room
Marble walls reveal erotic images
and provide backgrounds for lovers dialog.
Tiled floors worn down by pacing businessmen;
plagued by missing deadlines,
frustrated by failing communication
despite technological progression to facilitate it.