We go back and forth.

Us;
the support system for the heaving
organisation that lives and breathes
through our collective motions.

Our quarry;
the unfeeling network of warring
procedure, the bureaucratism a stench
across our paperwork, bound and
endless.

The battle;
disaster has struck, recovery the
plan for future spoils, though testing
has faltered, avoided all months.
They recommended, they explained, they
fought valiantly for vision and cry.
The dollar silences and the coffers
ravaged, no call to action and no
holding of bags.
Fobbed, sidelined, placed into pots
boiling, the water bubbles and splashes
outwards, carrying those into
the flame.