Saturday, August 3, 2013

Webb of Destruction




"You need to come in,"
the boss retorted,
even though I'd
reported
the conditions that day.
Conditions that made it hard
to stay
at work, or,
for some, even at home.

I remember it fine,
that day in September,
 1999.
The Year of the Great Flood.

"When are we closing?"
I asked over and over,
As others headed for cover,
in shelters or
 in mall
parking lots.

"I'm not aware of any of this,"
the boss would say.
Which gave her an excuse
to continue to delay
making a wise decision.

The winds blew,
Conditions grew,
steadily worse,
the dam burst,
spilling water all over the town.

(Miss Management
happened to live 
in one of the few
areas of the county
not affected by 
the storm.)

The library finally closed,
just before the power 
went off,
just before the 
grocery stores closed,
heaven knows,
this was all about control.

She called me at home,
later that day,
only to say
she was leaving town.
And off to the state library convention she went.

Dubious leadership...






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