Portable Manners


Two steps out the front door
is when I hear it
that call, across the road
that man, informing me
he’s bored.

I guess she has told him,
she does not have the time.
I judge this by his voice,
inching up by decibels.

In older days
that call,
would have been private
held inside, by a phone
captive, on a cord.

I thank them secretly,
in my mind, with an
internal wince.

Later I resist the urge
to confiscate
some handed device,
from their face.

When in the middle
of an accord to which services,
should be applied to
their equipment.

I am honoured to hear,
another one sided conversation
of utmost interest to me.

So off I glide,
to do a quick round
on the workbench,
then manners return.

The accord can be completed.


2 thoughts on “Portable Manners”

  1. “Hello? Yes its me. I’m on a train. Can’t speak now we’re going into a tunnel…Hello? … Hello?…” As the train goes into the darkness of the tunnel there comes the sound of a fist impacting on nose cartilage. The call is ended.

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