John Gillies

The Men in Dark Blue Suits all keep their eyes
on their notes as, one by one, they take their turn
to roll the silence flat with their smooth voices,
back and forth, leaving the grassy surface
striped in contrasting diagonals; their ties
echo the pattern perfectly.
Hypocrisy hangs heavy on their hands -
time so light it must be tethered to
the table-top, lest it should fly.
On plastic silver salvers, sandwiches
languish unloved. The percolator
strains and, with a gasp, brings forth
a tiny puke of fluid. We've done well
to heed their previous advice; the feedback
has improved beyond all expectation.
A blue-suited fly conducts
a thorough quality review
of the remaining tuna and tomato
sandwiches.