Chaos A Poem By Doc Nolan

by Doc Nolan

It wasn't the work.
It wasn't obeying.
What was broken was communication.

We lived on different planets.
I in the world of procedures, plans and execution
She in a world of nuance and emotion and inference.

She was the Boss
But I couldn't figure out what was going on.
Lost in a fog of words that never seemed to point anywhere specific.
She was equally frustrated.

It wasn't working.

It was broken.

We never came to a meeting point.
We simply spun around and around,
Circling.
She refused to give up.

I saw no future but I hung in.
Why?
Why not?
Even if we couldn’t communicate, seeing someone nearby was reassuring.

I waited.
I still am waiting.
Some things take centuries to play out.
Even disasters.

Life is often a series of disasters strung together.
It’s called tragedy.
It’s a core part of life
Chaos