John A Smith's Shouters Corner

Queuing
a poem by David Smith

I went to the post office the other day
I took with me some bills to pay

I stood for a while at the end of the queue
as this is how things are done this I did not rue

I approached the counter feeling reasonably good
my transaction completed I had done what I could.

As I departed I noticed a figure
who darted across as though someone pulled a trigger

He went to the window that I had just left
no concern for those in the queue so bereft.

This chap had achieved his gaol and taken the place
of a polite old lady, what a disgrace.

Should we adopt a code like the old West?
carrying fire-arms under our vest?

If we did some people would be taught a swift, terrible and lasting lesson
as the silver haired old dear mowed them down with her Smith and Wesson.

She would then take her place at the counter with a relief of tension
and collect some stamps, envelopes and her old age pension.

This is the way that things seem to be going
as we good manners and patience away we are throwing.

Would it hurt to show some courtesy and consideration.
even a little just enough that we’d call it moderation

If we tried to calm ourselves just a bit
our society may become a little more fit?

With this new found placidity and calm
we may rediscover our national charm?

© 2001 David Smith