Tuesday Poem – The 0800 Man

won’t listen

wants to tell me

how things must be done

which way.

I‘d rather make my own mistakes


The 0800 man

is frightened of mistakes.

At knock off time

they chase him home

clown feet slapping

on the tarmac.

And when it’s dark

they dim the lights.

Enfold him

in pom pom embrace.

Deafen him                                                                  

with sloppy clown kisses.

Leave greasepaint

on his face.


(c) Helen McKinlay

I am reposting this from five years back, having just made a spate of 0800 calls. I really feel for all those people who work at the end of 0800 numbers…the ones run by call centres and such like. What patience they need. In New Zealand 0800 numbers are free phone numbers attached to kindly businesses and govt. departments among other entities.

And now please cross over to the Tuesday Poem site for all sorts of interesting poems and updates from the literary world.

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