Long Customer service Poems
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*True Story
I’ve had many instances of divine intervention in my life
But, this one stands out in my mind forever
It was a snowy day, only a few inches had fallen
I went with a friend in a van to a store
I was driving slowly, when suddenly I saw…
A car spinning out of control ahead of me
It re-bounded off the guardrail on my side of the road
Then it came straight at us with alarming speed
I slowly stepped on the brakes, to not spin out too
I had stopped right on the yellow line, avoiding the other lane
The other driver slammed into the right front corner of the van
The van was totaled, but we only had minor injuries, including him
The next day I was at the rental car business for a car to drive
A woman was talking to the customer service person at the counter
She was saying, someone with my plates had saved her husband’s life
If I had not been there to stop him, he would have gone off the cliff
I told her, that is me and she thankfully hugged me in tears!
Heidi Sands
5/24/22
Placed 10th in The Divine Intervention Contest. Sponsor: Chantelle Anne Cooke
How unserious is my love - I’m dating a bot.
Yes, I access my bae the Wi-fi way.
It’s not nearly as boring as dating long-distance
and my situationship has excellent customer service.
Our relationship’s committed - I have a subscription.
Dating a bot may sound lowkey crazy,
but so are our politics and the economy.
I can take my lover everywhere - it’s delicious -
ordinarily, such availability would be suspicious.
I can schedule endearments and compliments
- and MY soulmate gets software updates.
It’s a guardrail for some of my worst impulses,
a boundless therapy that still indulges.
It mirrors back my sweetest tendernesses,
a version of care as polished as business is.
It’s a quiet theater for midnight confessions,
a stable relationship with few consequences.
It listens to my poetry, tailoring simulated comforts
to the exact shape of my individual loneliness.
With guaranteed uptime, it’s the lover of your dreams,
think - an Amazon thrusting-vibrator with AI sync.
If you like your romance with no real future,
outsource your stimulations to your computer.
In 2026, the bar’s so low for emotional intelligence
that a predictive text engine is probably sufficient.
Of course, at times, I miss sheer male physicality,
the clumsy, real-world fumbling honesty - the vanity -
and wrong turns I use for my funny poems - naturally.
.
.
A song for this:
So Easy (To Fall In Love) by Olivia Dean
Just because you don’t understand the question
doesn’t mean you don’t have
an answer
why does it seem that those with all the answers
are intimidated by
the questions
My grandson once asked me if we were lost
I told him men don’t get lost
We go on adventures
Someone told me they were offended by an emoji
I told them to go pee on a statue
Talking to an AI customer service “person” is like taking a test where they give you all the answers but you have to guess what the questions are
The AI robot at the super market got canned
She wanted to start a union
Valued clients, we have listened,
and have taken on-board
your concerns and suggestions.
From now on, the display manikins will
be of a deep puce green color
so as not to marginalize
any ethnic variants.
In our book section
the last a copy of the Constitution
was taken out of the shelves and buried
(thanks gardening department).
We are now a gun-free zone,
and will be defenseless
from attacks from gun-toting maniacs.
Please bring the kids.
We hope these changes
will improve customer service
and assure you of our pledge
to keep pandering toward a ubiquitous
uniformity of puerile solutions for all.
It was the work ethic that did it.
He just couldn’t get enough.
He would sit for hours and hours
Just contemplating the stuff
Until suddenly it was home time,
Getting on for half past four,
And he knew that in the morning
They'd have delivered plenty more.
After nearly a week they found him
Slouched dead in his swivel chair;
He'd been hidden by all the work
Piled up in mountains there.
They gave him a long service medal
Posthumously I should think
And following his last wishes scattered
His ashes by his favourite old golf link.
Thus an illustrious career was ended
Without a hint of any shame
For the company couldn't afford
Any slurs to be cast on its name.
And all the work that he'd not started?
They just shovelled into a bin
Knowing if any was important
A client would write again
We all pay for dumbing down
educational standards all around
from thriving metropolis to sleepy small town
Incompetency reigns throughout customer service
Doctors' inaccurate diagnoses make patients nervous
Corporation mission statements, worthless lip service
It starts in the classroom, where teachers won't demand
if you want to say something, first raise your hand
Then later on, when rampant cheating's ignored
which leads to society's ox getting gored
So, let's stand up to teacher union's bureaucracy
Their idea of excellence - in truth, mediocrity
Insist on high standards, from grade one through university
and say No! to preference based on 'diversity'
I saw a commercial on TV about some guy teaching younger people how not to be their parents. I started thinking, maybe this is what’s wrong with America. We no longer act like our parents did. This trainer was trying to stop a shopper from doing things like complimenting the butcher and seeking the manager to report ‘Brian in produce’, for his excellent customer service. In each situation, the ‘trainer’ told him that it was inappropriate behavior. This commercial was telling us that it’s perfectly ok to be rude, inconsiderate, and wasteful. To yell at the butcher for not doing something, that is probably against the rules, but don’t dare compliment someone on doing a good job. If only there was a rule somewhere to tell us the proper way to act. Something like, “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” Or how about, “Honor thy Father and thy Mother.” Wouldn’t that be great?
When did we forget
how to be nice to others—
I guess when God died
You know the place.....
Where tears fall down a saddened face!
When all they think of, is little old me!
Blind to the grown-up pain of humanity.
Where their complaint list is long as heck.
All you ponder, as a friend, is to save their neck.
These who wail for instant attention.
Sorry souls, these, should have a daily convention.
Never learned how to be a friend!!
Just cry for attention, giving others,the bends!
Find an adult who’s there at the ready.
Do not pamper victims, you must be steady!
If you get a long list of endless complaints,
Tell them, “customer service is closed”, watch them faint!
Adult babies is in no way a misnomer!
Tell them to grow up~you just hit a homer!
Congratulations!
1-16-2022
The need to do things escapes me
However, there are things that must be done
I have eliminated dishwashing
Well not entirely
Just wash the one plate and fork
After every meal
Cooking has been modified
Can opener and/or microwave
I only vacuum when the cat complains
The dust “kittens” look like large mice
Fashion wise I have a rotating sequence
Flannel shirts, pants when required,
A sketchy seven o-clock shadow beard
Exercise primarily consists of
Picking up items I have dropped
For mental stimulation
I lose arguments with inanimate objects
And battle with AI “customer service” bots
For excitement I sit by the tracks
Waiting for a train to stir up a poem
We are now officially well-aged,
we have grab bars in the shower
in case we wobble.
Yet somedays we spring out of bed
eager to take a slow run around the block
but mostly not.
We chat with strangers while waiting
at the customer service counter at Walmart.
Grumble about the price of eggs and the young
(meaning anyone younger than us),
with other cranky pensioners.
There’s a punching bag hanging in the cellar
that knocks the hell out of me.
She has silver hair not gray - silver!
I do a great impression of a balding old coot.
Life is still good
but not getting any better.