The Angry Man in the Conference Room

the door was closed and the red in his face
was like the heat lamps in the hotel bathrooms,
those exposed to it wanted to turn away or turn it off
if they could without turning off the fan.
our voices surrounded him, trying to calm the anger
that metamorphized from nothing, the loud voice,
the flush, the insistence on being right when
he was wrong, that's ok, dude, you're ok,
let's stay chill, grab some ice cubes and
cool your armpits, they are wet with anger
and heat, you are burning so hot, you
will one day keel over from it all.