How quick we are to criticize kids for
Ignorant endeavours, when some old
Folks cruise as witlessly. On the bus
This morning an old girl refused to
Move her industrial barrow, which was
Taking up extra space, in favour of my
Baby’s pram. There was sufficient room for
Her, and, Chinese puzzle like, two smaller
Pushchairs would have shuffled and made
More for all, but she wasn’t having any of it,
Even though I’d asked politely.
She started spouting about her charitable
Deeds, to justify her actions, and the town’s
Need of her, and seemed to imply this
Gave her the right to sit at the front of
The class with her feet on the teacher’s
Table. I insisted that my kid, barely seven
Week old, was not looking for anything
Other than equal bus rights, but she implied
We should be walking anyway, as she had
Done with hers back in the days before colour,
And roads had not been stoned. I maneuvered to
The side and realized that the past must
Have been a harsh place to live if it
Was peopled with hags like her.
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As always, wonderful and powerful ending. I love how you're able to tell a story within a poem. I enjoyed the social commentary in this one. :)
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