Process

They have the numbers, they’re at pains to stress.

We listen closely, restudy the rules.

They like agreement, won’t put up with fools.

They act, deciding on the process.

We listen like mutes then speak our distress.

The Disaster Committee takes big notes.

We write a letter, we add up the votes

Tidily abiding by the process.

The Disaster Committee claims success,

Contrary to us on the receiving end

Out there deriding the whole damn process.

We are all grieving, we won’t try to guess

We think it for the best, we won’t offend

Leaving them hiding behind their process.