Things that have vanished into history:
The old typewriter that you had to hit,
Its inky ribbon twisting easily;
Whole roomfuls of typists - remember it?
Those queues for public telephones have bit
The dust. Remember standing in the rain?
Your call was urgent? Too few coins? Tough shit.
Now money’s monarchy has ceased to reign;
Now all’s electric, virtual; in vain
We hunt for coins for beggars. Nor do we
Write real letters with ink pens, nor permit
Our parents to live with us, nor remain
Together as couples. Authority
Of parents, teachers, police. Mums who knit.
Tue 21 Aug 2010
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