Saturday, 8 June 2013

Queues. A non-autobiographical poem :)


Have you ever been stood waiting in a queue?
Well of course you have, I didn't need to ask;
but have you ever noticed, if you're waiting for the loo
that the person who is standing in the queue in front of you
always wears a fixed expression like a mask.

I mean, you try to have a conversation,
just friendly like, to pass the time away,
you make a chance remark about not having constipation
and, goodness me, the looks you get of shock and consternation
well, make you wish you didn't need to stay.

Then someone else comes in and joins the queue,
someone with a lively sense of humour;
they start to make suggestions which are hard to misconstrue
about the need to find another secret rendevous
in a humorous attempt to start a rumour.

The rest stand there in silent contemplation;
it seems as though they're all afraid to speak
and because you're feeling bored and you can't resist temptation
you start to play along with the imagined assignation
till the one in front of you begins to freak.

So, feeling sorry for this ingenue
you make another effort to converse,
"Don't worry, love" you tell her, to avert a ballyhoo,
" I haven' t really come in to this toilet for a screw, "
but somehow that just seems to make her worse.

Slowly, one by one, this motley crew
see to their ablutions and retire;
you've waited all this time and now the next one in is you,
then someone who has just come in and doesn't want to queue
panics everyone by shouting, "Fire. "

Have you ever been in such a situation?
It may be that you've never known despair,
but right this very minute, far and wide across this nation
there are ladies in the LADIES in a state of agitation
and silently they stand devoid of all communication
- unless of course I happen  to be there

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