Conform

I spent my day today like so many other people do – trying to find my way out of Ikea.

The store is designed in such a way that you spend your time going round and round in ever increasing circles!

You walk miles to find the check-out and then find yourself at the end of a half hour long queue. And all to buy a piddly little pot plant and a few candles!

My experience today reminded me of this poem, written when I was twenty.

Conform

I’m always coming out

of stations

everyone else

is going into

The streets I walk up

others walk down.

When I patiently reach

the end of a queue

I find the counter closed.

The other bus

is always

the one to come first

Invariably

there are six of them

going the other way.

After waiting an hour

I check the bus timetable

to find the last one

left on Thursday.

Somewhere in England

there are a hundred buses

lost in a leafy lane

and waiting for me.

Am I bound

to spend my life

exiting at no exits

going up the down staircase

lighting electric cookers

and waiting for out of order lifts

Or shall I

reluctantly

give myself up

as a misplaced person?

    

 © Andrea Neidle, My Life in Poems

 

 

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