DEAR SIR!
Dear Mr Minister; You in Charge,
Who writes your name so proud and large,
I'm looking for an explanation
For a crazy situation.
My Australian passport needs renewing;
Nothing to be misconstruing!
So why this letter in my hand?
I honestly don't understand!
First, you ask for my address!
How's that for forgetfulness?
For how did the letter find its way
Into my hot little hand today?
If you weren't aware of my address,
What did you do to find me? Guess?
I come to another matter, then.....
You ask me where I was born, and when!
You've had my details on your files
For ever and ever! That's what riles!
And my parents' names haven't changed! No wonder!
Both of them are six feet under!
The date of my birth? What! Don't you know!
You were told that many years ago!
It's been on eight passports, plus census stuff!
Haven't I filled it in enough!
My driver's licence! See! It's there!
And it's also known to Medicare!
I'm going to New Zealand! Hell!
That's a place you should know well!
I've seen shots of you over there,
Walking about with nose in air!
It's not as though it's Timbuctoo,
But you want to know what I'm going to do!
'Will I visit a farm?' Good grief!
Your questions are really beyond belief!
If I wanted to pay a secret visit
I wouldn't tell you! Is that clear? Is it?
And, if by chance, I'm asked to a farm,
Will I suddenly stiffen and blanche with alarm
All because I was well-intentioned,
But on my form it isn't mentioned?
Why must someone held in high regard
Sign the back of my photo? Is it hard
To look at me and then at it
And see at once it's perfect fit?
Any Joe Blogs could do the same,
He only needs to sign his name.
Why 'someone of standing in society'
When anyone can see it's me?
You suggest a doctor might do the deed!
I say it's me, sir! Can't you read?
I'm Australian through and through!
We've been here since 1852!
One of my ancestors made the grade,
Fighting at the Eureka Stockade!
*
I've finally managed to run to ground
A 'person of standing' and I have found
That the doctor who'll vouch for me is fresh
From the shores of Bangladesh!
13 comments:
Oh Brenda, you have improved on the original letter ten fold. It is so funny and I am going to copy it and forward it to everyone I sent the letter to. (Expletives are not necessary for humor.)
You just have to be the cleverest poet alive. Keep 'em coming.
Publishers, take note. Here is a gem that will make you big bucks.
I love it. You can't beat bureaucracy for getting people riled.
It's the old story of what people do giving them status. Wonder where they got that from then?
Oh, what a hoot! Can't ever take enough shots at the bureaucracy!
Mr Minister would've turned scarlet, if this poem had found its way to the press :)))
Ah, I empathize. When we were in Australia and leaving the country, they were such sticklers about the weight of carry-ons. I knew that my carry-on weighed more than their limit so, in order not to attract attention, I had to walk as if it was light as a feather. I digress...but anyway, my point is your comments do not surprise me. LOL.
Brenda,
Wonderful words, with a situation choked with lots of red tape and routine!
An excellent read.
Best wishes,
Eileen
Hilariously entertaining, so wittily done. Perfect rhyme and metre as well. Great response to the prompt!
powerful highlight...
This is wonderful. I could see it as a performance piece. You would have the audience roaring!
Oh thank you so much for this wonderful piece of doggerel. Your sense of timing is excellent, and the end result is a scream.
Brenda no one can rhyme quite as wonderfully as you! Well spoken and wonderful for the prompt! :-)
Well, well, well... I think you've summed up quite rhythmically everyone's troubles with bureaucracy . Love and Light, Sender
fun and delightful read...love the rhyme especially the last line...bkm
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