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!