Whose ox is being gored?

Whose ox is being gored?
Christopher Bogart

“It all depends on whose ox is being gored.”
Ann used to say to me at work
when a petty disagreement
turned into the Tet Offensive and
the opposing sides scattered to seek new allies.
“Yes, I know how you feel.”
The voice would condescend.
“I really hate when that happens.”
From her tone you knew that
she didn’t have a horse in the race,
a dog in the fight,
or an ox in the pit.
And as both sides formed,
in opposing offices
Like an indoor version of “Capture the Flag,”
I looked in amazement at the energy expended
On proving the point. Being declared the winner.
Waving the flag over victorious heads
like a deranged tableau from “Les Mis.”
To some of the combatants,
it bore global importance;
To others, a minor irritation,
An imperceptible drop in the office temperature,
Or was it a rise?
And as all this played out before our eyes,
I looked back at Ann.
Her eyes glinted in mischievous innocence,
and a Mona Lisa smile formed on her lips,
reminding me silently that
I guess it really does depend on whose ox
is being gored.