Saturday’s Child
“Saturday’s child works hard for a living.”
—nursery rhyme
A Kanban chart festoons a wall with color-coded squares.
_____Across from it
Claire’s hung an organizational chart above the chairs
_____Where lessers sit.
A framed diploma honks about the PhD she earned
_____From some State school.
She keeps the glass streak-free, for Claire has learned
_____Which standards rule.
Her Excel sheets contain the people, dates, resources, times
_____For every job
She oversees. Her on-line planner sorts Claire’s day with chimes,
_____An hourly fob!
‘She has the work under control,’ her lessers say and wink,
_____Before they scamper.
Her open door enthrones her will and taxes all they think.
_____She likes to tamper.
And at the end of day, Claire checks her to-do list and marks
_____The tasks undone,
Then tidies up her desk, assesses how she met benchmarks,
_____If today she won.
All her subordinates are gone before she dims the lights.
_____She checks their spaces
For work they might have left. Lessers always need oversight.
_____Claire covers all her bases.
Mary Cecelia Bowman is a retired high school English teacher who lives in Southern Arizona and teaches freshman composition as an adjunct. Her poetry has appeared in America magazine.
Mary, I detect the lack of personal affection for those overseen and wonder about the supervision in between. Claire has hung her ego upon the wall along with a Kanban chart to cover all. Claire seems to be the conscientious sort, while lessers fail to give her their report. Your poem contains an interesting take about a churl who is regarded as a fake.
“She oversees.” Good words to emphasize, Mary Cecelia. Your poem displays the disconnect between work and tools that affects too many. The reader never learns what kind of job Claire has, or what kind of office or institution is its setting. Indeed, despite her PhD on the wall, we wonder whether Claire knows enough to “enthrone her will,” as so many supervisors try to do NOT by genuine open-door friendliness but by overbearing attention to “human resources” they could care less about. A lonely poem that paints a sad picture of everyone involved.