Non-executive Director

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Feet first 

When they carried him out of the boardroom after lunch

He gurgled

 

 

The ambulance pulled up to the front steps

And when she had carefully lip-read the backward spelling

She phoned upstairs

It’s here she said

 

 

He was slumped in an armchair under a tablecloth

Someone was crying in the toilet

And a boy from the office stood-by like a loyal sentry  

 

 

They strapped him to a trolley-chair and took the lift to reception

He was hanging over to one side a little

 

 

In front of where the typing pool used to be

Two goldfish swam excitedly to their glass perimeter

She reached for him but was restrained and comforted

Not knowing what to do

With the faint sound of the phone ringing in his pocket