Original version:
Shall I applaud again?
Everyone is wonderful, it's true
It's also given
I don't know you, nor do I know
your work
your contribution
your soul
your place among us here
but I know mine
I'm to appreciate
to fill every void with applause
the white noise of gratitude
for service rendered, anticipated
or imagined
It's praise as social lubricant
or as event pacing
a metronome of indifferent adoration
Do, by all means, continue
or stop
our response will not vary a jot.
I'm sure you'll be delightful
or were already.
Now I've forgotten
Were you presenter, performer, host, or producer?
pianist, percussionist, whichever performer?
benefactor, bankroller, or broken bodied roadie?
Or do we clap for them too?
I can no longer tell.
Well whatever,
Thank You
Well Done.
I've clapped, now
Who's next?
- Mine Aug, 2016
So I feel like this piece requires an explanation. I went to a lovely poetry event over the summer. The setting was gorgeous, my company was charming, Juan Philipe Herrera (current US Poet Laureate) was speaking and reading, the weather was not awful, the musicians that carried the interlude were fantastic. There was *so* much to enjoy and enjoy it, I did.
BUT
Before the actual presentations began, the introductions had to be endured. Person after person stood to introduce the next person to stand and introduce the next presenter who would introduce... it was endless - and each went through a list of people to thank for their considerable contributions in making things come together. They, of course, did not coordinate their lists, so the venue was thanked at least 6 times. And the performers, for deigning to attend. And the advertisers, for advertising. Or occasionally a local 'celebrity' turning up was enough to merit gratitude. On all our parts. Apparently. Repeatedly. It was ridiculous - very nearly farcical, oh, if only it had bubbled into farcical... Alas. I've never experienced such a thing outside of a fundraiser and, well, you expect it there. It's why I usually just mail a check.
In any case, I managed to hold on to both sanity and decorum without making a scene because I was raised properly. And because I'd had the foresight to pack a notepad and pen.
Shall I applaud again?
Everyone is wonderful, it's true
It's also given
I don't know you, nor do I know
your work
your contribution
your soul
your place among us here
but I know mine
I'm to appreciate
to fill every void with applause
the white noise of gratitude
for service rendered, anticipated
or imagined
It's praise as social lubricant
or as event pacing
a metronome of indifferent adoration
Do, by all means, continue
or stop
our response will not vary a jot.
I'm sure you'll be delightful
or were already.
Now I've forgotten
Were you presenter, performer, host, or producer?
pianist, percussionist, whichever performer?
benefactor, bankroller, or broken bodied roadie?
Or do we clap for them too?
I can no longer tell.
Well whatever,
Thank You
Well Done.
I've clapped, now
Who's next?
- Mine Aug, 2016
So I feel like this piece requires an explanation. I went to a lovely poetry event over the summer. The setting was gorgeous, my company was charming, Juan Philipe Herrera (current US Poet Laureate) was speaking and reading, the weather was not awful, the musicians that carried the interlude were fantastic. There was *so* much to enjoy and enjoy it, I did.
BUT
Before the actual presentations began, the introductions had to be endured. Person after person stood to introduce the next person to stand and introduce the next presenter who would introduce... it was endless - and each went through a list of people to thank for their considerable contributions in making things come together. They, of course, did not coordinate their lists, so the venue was thanked at least 6 times. And the performers, for deigning to attend. And the advertisers, for advertising. Or occasionally a local 'celebrity' turning up was enough to merit gratitude. On all our parts. Apparently. Repeatedly. It was ridiculous - very nearly farcical, oh, if only it had bubbled into farcical... Alas. I've never experienced such a thing outside of a fundraiser and, well, you expect it there. It's why I usually just mail a check.
In any case, I managed to hold on to both sanity and decorum without making a scene because I was raised properly. And because I'd had the foresight to pack a notepad and pen.
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