19 November 2016


It is taking the evidence of an age for this event, 
not that it’s a portent of calamity, not yet though 
there is always room for immunity to fail - we’ve 
been patient, reasonably circumspect even, yet 
within the indecency of a no-reception zone: an 
advent of promised revelation seems hollow, or 
echoes empty epithets hitherto less enchanting 
than charismatic erudition th’ gay twenties lent 

They say gratuitously, you are not on the same 
wave length; pardon me, unlikely as it appears, 
I am less the apostate missing innuendos your 
Generation clings to - I see through sham as it 
is the word we invented way back when, or am 
I stealing your thunder, you poseurs. So, when

You port my old number to my new cellphone, 
purchased because you enjoined me in throes 
of slim-SIM modernisation, don’t anticipate the 
gratified thank-you’s; - agonising as it appears, 
to wait 5 days was your worst case scenario
why then will I have to wait for at least fifteen? 
© 28 July 2016, I. D. Carswell