technocratic army

“we can’t come to the phone right now;
please leave a message”
all weekend, holed up like moles in their condos
technocrats’ telephone voices taxed

nerves, like fringed babushka shawls frayed
even by so-called friends
compelled to unload, seek solutions
where none exist

ride a bicycle to save the planet
better to chill
rest up for billable hours

rest of the week, race against time
race to the top
the downtown skyline – a beauty contest of phallic symbols

occasional frenzied sprees to shop for technocratic armour
suits, neckties, shoes are important
to put the best foot forward

synchronous click of heels on pavement
thrice daily – getting there, lunch, home

whatever happened to the high road?
connections prized over merit
a popularity contest
name dropping of
those wielding power, positioned
holding court
holding tight.

*Previously published by Our Times, Canada’s Independent Labour Magazine, 2008.

~ Barbara D. Janusz

A graduate of the University of Alberta with Bachelors degrees in Arts and Laws, Barbara D. Janusz is the author of the novel, Mirrored in the Caves. A transplant from Calgary, where she resided from 1985 until 2005, Barbara resides in Crowsnest Pass, Alberta.

To read more poems by Barbara click here.

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