Select a line and there remain,
Don’t jump to gain position,
Be careful not to show disdain,
Or complain of its condition.
For those in front, and those behind,
Allow them space to move.
As much as you might feel inclined,
There’s little here to prove.
Be alert but do not pry,
You’re part of this progression,
To any grumble don’t reply,
A smile’s the best expression.
. When people mass, and muddles brew,
. It must be time, to form a queue.
© Tim Grace, 24 March 2011
To the reader: Queues. Rule bound but culturally specific. Some loose and self-organising others tightly scripted. By design the best of queues follow the dictum of form follows function. The unspoken measure of a good queue is its marriage of context and purpose. To happily surrender to a queue there must be benefits. The value of time spent in a queue is a relative notion… may have something to do with mass and energy?
To the poet: As an advisory, this poem describes a problem and offers a solution. The familiar context of a queue doesn’t need too much in the way of description to deliver a believable subject. And so, with light-hearted conviction the poet has convinced himself, at least, of the virtues of queues. In a poetic sense there’s merit in a line that can flex and has space to shuffle.
