https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R._N._Taber
Since the
1970s, pressure of work on the average person has at least doubled; fewer staff
and the common misconception by (too many) managers that just about anyone can
be replaced by a computer has been a major contributory factor. Only ten years
earlier, my teachers at school had been telling us how wonderful the 1980s
would be once machines were doing the lion’s share of the work we were paid
full-time wages for part-time hours. [Whatever happened to the Golden Age of
Leisure we were promised?]
Oh, but
show me a windmill!
O,
CERVANTES
One
commuter rises
at seven,
has to run for the train
at eight
after ritual peck
on
doorstep, and warning the kids
not to be
late for school
Arrives for
work wearily,
re-sorts
any post meticulously,
checks
with a secretary
about
what’s worth knowing
on the
grapevine
Another
day done,
breaks
for tea well-deserved,
our hero
heads home,
packed
like a helpless veal calf
on the
continental run
Turns a
brassy yale
at about
half-six most days,
picking
at supper
by seven
ten, sends screaming kids
to do
their homework
Starts to
tell the wife
about his
own work, and then...
(Damn,
the mobile again!)
A smoke,
glass of red, some soap TV,
(pity about
the ulcer, scary.)
No
outstanding bills, and never
a thing
about windmills
Copyright
R. N. Taber 1999; 2013
[Note: An earlier but only slightly different version of today’s poem was written in 1972; it appeared in Poetry Monthly (1999) that has since closed down and in All in One Day, Poetry Now (Forward Press) 2001 prior to my first major collection, Love And Human Remains by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2001;]
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