It was during our annual zoom meeting
for cracking old apartment block that
I realised I appeared to be the oldest,
wrinkliest owner present. Blame genes.
* Note: I was not.
My head boxed into one of those squares
on computer screen, ageing body seated
in one-bedroom cell. After greetings
and the usual administrivia – most fees
simply cover building insurance –
owners aired customary gripes: antiquainted
plumbing, cracking walls. Any action
unlikely this side of absolute Emergency.
Then I, like other asses, assured impatient
body corp Chairperson, who stumbled
through the ritual half-asleep, that I was
‘satisfied’ with the meeting outcome.
* Note: I was not.
Allan Lake is a migrant poet from Allover, Canada who now lives in Allover, Australia. Coincidence.
تعليقات