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Poem
Coins stacked like leaning towers of tilted soldiers 
Oh the stories they could tell, well traveled
Phone rings, Hello, how may I help you? 
Receipt roll falls from the till, unraveled
 
Could you tell me where my letter is today?  
It was posted last Thursday? Around a mile away?
 
Unlikely, 

let me consult my crystal ball 
Of course, we’re the post office, we can answer all
 
Questions,

Ask away, Yes of course I know when your next benefit payment is, 
Not one single ounce of common sense, let me tell you this
 
Story,
 
Yes I want to hear your life story, of course I have time 
It’s not like the queue is wall to door lined
 
Paper,

And reams of it, more, paper, more ink, more jobs accrued 
The workload increases, more tasks to do
 
You know?
 
I don’t. No! How could I possibly have the answers 
To the question you haven’t asked yet, of course, this is standard
 
Train tickets?
  
I’m sorry we are not the train station 
It’s only been an hour and I’m losing my patience 

Quickly,
  
I can’t meet your demand any faster, there are others in line 
There’s a clock on the wall, don’t ask me the time

Wasters;
  
The lot of them, the job centre crew, picking up their giro’s 
Unkept and impatient, write on their forms, when they leave the biro’s
 
Dissapear,
 
Oh I wish I could, Outside I can hear the birds singing 
Oh if I was a bird, this phone hasn’t stopped ringing
 
All day,
  
I’ve been counting out euros, filling in applications 
Not a moment to myself for the entire duration
 
Of the day,

It’s 2pm, when is lunch? We dare not say 
Just no more complaining for the rest of the day
  
Tickets,
 
Day tickets? For the bus? Don't be silly... Ohh the coach?  
And I’m still being polite with a calm, cool approach
 
To the chaos,
 
left on the floor, sweets from the pic n mix, an unsupervised kid, 
Does your mum know you’re here? bags a kilo of sweets but only has a quid
 
Fifty-Fifty,
  
The chance that I’ll actually get lunch before three  
The queue’s to the door and it’s just Sue and me
 
Waiting,
  
Always waiting for the chance of a break 
Cos our patience is wearing, how much can one take
 
Your time? 

Wasting your time? My time, always frustrated, people complaining 
the queue is too long, I’m tired of explaining, our voices are straining,
 
To be heard, 

Please queue with some patience, You'll soon be back home
We will meet your needs before even our own
 
and we’re trying our best but there’s so much to do.

At the post office.
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