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  • Poem of the Day: The Process
    So grateful the process is clean
    and faithful. Does not cheat
    like a disenchanted spouse
    dozing on a haggard couch.

    Take heart: the process is always right — 
    is automatic, phlegmatic. Clean, cold,
    and always refreshing. Brewed to perfection
    some say. Guaranteed to satisfy

    you might say. Give thanks the process
    is organized. Synchronized and sterilized.
    Optimized but not disguised, like
    the grown man at my door long after

    trick-or-treaters have gone, hand
    outstretched, mask covering his eyes.
    Thankful, too, for the oversight: no
    boogeyman standing over the drain pipe,

    clogging it with debris when no one sees
    so he can charge you your life
    for the cleaning; name your price.
    And how shall we praise the instruments

    of investigation? So shiny, so new, gleaming
    with silver and glass? No traces of fingerprints
    or funders. No whispered voices
    softly requesting, of the results, a first glance.

    There’s no need to come clean. We know
    the process won’t fall prey to steak and wine
    and then slink upstairs to spend some time,
    just a little. The process doesn’t. The process

    wouldn’t. The process isn’t that kind.

    Source: Poetry March 2017

    Dilruba Ahmed

    Biography
    More poems by this author


    

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