Kurt Olsson ~ Three Prose Poems

Re: Helicopter

I’ve been sum­mar­i­ly informed that because I am not at an appro­pri­ate lev­el in this orga­ni­za­tion, I do not mer­it a heli­copter in my office. Helicopter notwith­stand­ing, I have always com­port­ed myself pro­fes­sion­al­ly with­in said orga­ni­za­tion. I am par­tic­u­lar­ly incensed—in its strongest, most incen­di­ary sense, though I assure you it was not I who pulled the fire alarm which dis­rupt­ed work yesterday—that this dik­tat comes from you, a direc­tor who over­sees a depart­ment where pro­fes­sion­al com­port­ment has long been and con­tin­ues to be so sad­ly lack­ing (cf. G–D, annu­al Christmas par­ty). Moreover, some­one has appar­ent­ly told you I have been observed “loung­ing” in said heli­copter. This is an out­right lie, and I am offend­ed. No mat­ter the heli­copter is much too small to lounge in. In real­i­ty, it is lit­tle more than a bal­sa wood glid­er, the kind ser­vice sta­tions used to hand out free with a tank of gas, the kind with the red pro­pel­lor and the rub­ber band that always breaks, so when I toss it over­head I hear the for­mer occu­pants of this self­same office to which I’ve been con­signed shriek­ing like tod­dlers at the top of a roller­coast­er ride just before they plum­met to the ground.

~

Executive Summary

Make easy look dif­fi­cult. Swim in the shal­low end. Never take a charge but always make the free throw. Avoid sticky and yel­low. Order the filet mignon at busi­ness lunch­es, if only to dice strips of bacon to feed the fer­ret. If you must raise a hand, hold off, yet don’t be the last. Remember: you com­prise the et cetera at the end of every sen­tence that trails off into obliq­ui­ty. Always leave the tank half full. Kick the can down the road. Kick it as far as a can can be kicked.

~

Copy

It’s what you do. You take isn’t, make it is not. The word per­son. They give you an office with a door you can thank Myers-Briggs for. Content often an omega; sen­tence mechan­ics no. When do peo­ple matric­u­late to bul­let points? Why argue incent and irre­gard­less aren’t stan­dard English? Sometimes you insert non­sense deep inside a doc­u­ment just because. Faces het­eroge­nous, pas­sive voice the same. The pro­trac­tor in wire-framed glass­es who side­steps into your cubi­cle every few days and says I need you to do my think­ing for me. The cor­ner-win­dow office who buys you a light ther­a­py lamp in exchange for draft­ing a bawdy anniver­sary son­net to her spouse. It’s a job; it pays. Still. The quick brown fox are you lis­ten­ing jumps over the lazy dog are you there?

~

Kurt Olsson’s third full-length col­lec­tion of poet­ry, The Unnumbered Anniversaries, was released by Fernwood Press in 2025. Olsson’s poems have appeared in a wide vari­ety of pub­li­ca­tions, includ­ing Poetry, The Threepenny Review, The New Republic, and Southern Review. The enclosed poems are tak­en from a new man­u­script, The Business, which includes five prose poems that orig­i­nal­ly appeared in NWWQ.