Squalls of noise as the voices rise and fall <br />because the administrative personnel are <br />the only people with rights on earth, singing <br />at the top of their voice, discussing whatever <br />appears in their eyes, replying with eh’s and <br />ah’s and other guttural and nasal sounds <br />designed to keep the conversation flowing <br />even when they have nothing to say <br /> <br />Translators, idiots one and all, are interlopers <br />subject to their whims, listening while reading <br />illegible texts that refuse to acquire meaning – <br />since we have to keep ourselves happy I keep <br />silent while wondering what could possibly have <br />possessed anyone to put administration and <br />production together in one big space without <br />walls for privacy and reflection <br /> <br />But even the squalls die down eventually, pity <br />the happiness factor within me does not react <br />favourably as much as I wish it…<br /><br />Margaret Alice<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/2010-08-18-squalls/
