POETRY - POLITICAL


Queues

That perennial British habit, once a working facet of etiquette,
A symbol of sophistication and civilization, now a tool of control.
When there is a mass of people in demand, then queues pre-empt anarchy,
But it seems now, that the ruling class mechanism of status and governance,
That ordains subordinates, to wait as a matter of course and procedure,
Has metamorphosed into a prevalent sociological norm, for every conceivable service.
Without thought or preconception, customers must interminably wait
For everything, making each day, a litany of staccato queues.
To stand motionless, speechless without complaint or comment,
Brain dead, waiting to order or pay exorbitant fees and rates,
For the privilege of, well what, to be British.
Where to complain, or even comment, is to adorn the mark of Cain itself,
This wasted time, business and energy, an antiquated anachronism,
Where lack of investment, organization and planning, are veiled by snobbery and complacency.
What would the Americans or Indians say, where you as a customer
Will wait for little time; the opportunity to accept your business and money,
Would be immediate and grasped with both hands, tightly gripped.
I agree that the concept of queues, is civilized and evolved.
But the exploitation of it, for selfish control and excuse lack of investment or organization,
Is retrograde, lazy, anachronistic, complacent and ultimately self-destructive.