We sometimes can't avoid lines. Often, we resent having to stand in line and wait for extended periods of time. Waiting, waiting, waiting...
Lines are a fact of life however. Maybe, we should put the time we spend waiting in line to more productive use. Hhm?
Recently, as I stood in line at my local bank with at least twelve people ahead of me, I began to think how I could 'make' a poem based on my line experience.
In my mind I took myself to a different time and place. A place in a queue a long way from the bank. I began to rehearse my words. I could feel a poem forming in my head. It helped me pass the waiting time. Poetry can happen anywhere, anytime. We just have to be ready to receive the words that come floating in our direction.
So now it's time for me to put it all on the line...
I stand in line
A line stretching forever
A line for which I have no time
A line for which I have no mind
Not even a line in the sand
Not the line of least resistance
Not a fine line
This line that moves with no urgency
A line so lacking in movement
-A snail would grow impatient
I stand in line
The summer sun bites my back
I'm on the hotline
The firing line
And the smallest shuffle excites me
A line longer than a thousand snakes
Stretching out of sight
Beyond the blue horizon
A line capable of joining day to night
A line so long, I want to say-so long
And as I stand in this endless line
-A thought, most disturbing comes rushing at me...
Will there be any ice-creams left
When, finally I reach the head of the queue?
That's the bottom line.
Alan j Wright