Art and poetry on page and stage
12
Wanda Phipps
spy
i am a spy in the house of commerce
suits, heels, briefcases
ties and tight smiles
lunch room chatter
how was your weekend?
how was your evening?
how was your day?
news on video screens everywhere
expressionless walks
thru identical hall after hall
on my computer screen
a video states info
about company culture:
“a tribe is a light weight matrix”
tribe as a cultivating container
but i sit not in a tribe
but a cube — a cubicle
a kind of rectangular
straight jacket — close — confined
trying to find freedom of mind
and spirit inside
this constricted life
if i were to write a song now
what would it be? as a spy in
the house of commerce
i imagine invisibly
slipping through its matrix
but in reality i am
all too visible
an alien element infiltrating
a closed system
to the conditions of air
days are crammed with work and more work
even love, caring, closeness and friendship become work
there need to be lessons on how to bend and move more freely
to spread wings further with each new obstacle — each heavy gust
it’s necessary to learn to dive and duck the icy wind currents yet also allow
them to support you on those long night journeys — it’s necessary to learn the
secrets of flight to adapt to the conditions of air