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Old Curmudgeon

Contuncious all the way to Birmingham

With children squibbling up and down the aisles;

Red headed stockers in their red-lined worlds,

Furiously stabbling ipads all the whilst

Oblivious to the noticles for quiet

The mutters from retired, Tonbridge Walls,

Who bought his ticket thirteen weeks ago

Hoping to read his book on Bulgan Smalls;

But no, the snozzing chorus and the slap

Of well filed finger nails on viral screens

Skirp his thoughts and purpulate his mind

Till losing his contribulation, screams

            Can't you read, you blasterds - it's the law

            No I-saws here - who won the bloody war?

Brian Hick January 2013

©copyright Sally Hick 13.1.25