Customer Service Indeed
Customer service seems oxymoronic
When it takes ninety minutes
To reclaim the money
That a giant conglomerate
Stole from the bank
Of a widow
With terminal cancer
For a communication company
You are very much lacking
But up there with the best
For robbing pensioners, snatching handbags
And calling it a technical glitch
You make my skin itch
As you filter me through a call centre
Where the underpaid, overworked
Clerk with spectacular second
Language skills does his
Best to navigate this riddle of the Sphinx
In the end, I express my regret
That this is the way we must
Spend our time together
But as we separate
I send best wishes
To him and his family
And a strongly worded letter
To the complaints department
Thoughts
I’m not giving this any more thought. Instead, here is a lion from a park in Lincoln.
© John Monaghan 2025. All Rights Reserved
