What is the proper etiquette
For declining to bypass security
Measures by walking through
Perspex barriers two-by-two?
I don’t recall, but forcing the issue
By swiping your card made me
Choose – to hesitate and lock
Us both out, or to cheat
And leave you too little time
To cross the line and make it
To the toilet. In my defence
The cat woke me at 4am
Breaking through the bedroom
Door, my lunch leaked in my
Handbag, forcing me to alter
My commute, omitting the exercise
Portion of the early part of my day
So I was barely awake
And very keen to pee
Somewhere other than the
Carpeted corridor. In short, true
Gallantry’s all very well, but
Don’t do it again.
My bladder may not support
A maiden fair did gaze one day
Into a well I heard her say
I shall not wish for silly things,
What good are princes? Diamond rings?
Instead, I ask for common sense;
The right to choose from this day hence:
What path I take, for good or ill,
And whether I go on the pill.
(This maiden fair was as you see
More sensible than you or me).
She begged the well then, on her knees
To grant her one last favour, please?
And my ears pricked to see what might
The girl choose now to ease her plight.
Dear reader, be you not amazed,
Though I was shocked, in quite a daze
At what next I heard issue forth
From that peculiar rosebud mouth:
She bid the well send her a gift,
Not tall or handsome, strong or swift,
But one which would (and I don’t err)
Next in life, be “good for her”.
So there I stood, struck dumb with awe
Wondering at what I saw:
A girl, though young and lithe of limb,
Choosing wisdom over sin.
The cogs are turning in my belfry
Hours may strike ere I feel healthy.
Public transport equals germs
People share so we take turns.
If they’d only use a hanky
I might never feel so manky,
But that takes intelligence, and
Britons seem to have no sense.
Rather than a week in bed,
I’d much prefer a clearer head,
But thanks to those who choose to sneeze
I’ve no choice but to take my ease.
It’s not my fault I’ll be off work,
Due to some stupid, thoughtless jerk.
So I can’t help but feel incensed
By others’ vicious, pinching pence.
I’d buy you all a handkerchief
If I had funds – to save me grief!
But as I’m rather short this year
Instead, I’ll make one thing quite clear:
All those who spray me with their germs,
I’ll wish you many ill returns!