'Is there anybody there?' said the customer
Banging on the bank's front door
While a clerk in the shadows keyed in credits
From the post the day before
And a phone started up in the office
Above the client's head
And she smote upon the door again, a second time
'Is there anybody there?' she said.
But no-one descended to the customer
No head, from the keyboard, raised
Took heed of the phone,or the doorbell
By computers all were fazed.
Only a host of broken promises
That haunted the in-trays then
Took note, as they lay, of the last chance
To arrange the affairs of men.
Sighed, yearning for quill pens and day books
When the customers all were KNOWN
and computers had never been thought of
Whereas now they rule alone.
The poor client, she sensed their impotence
Their frustration answering her call
Though her heart sank, she girded her loins
And cried out, down the empty hall.
I have filled in my last request form, and
I've phone 'till my line caught fire
Tell them I've moved my cahs to an old sock
Though the risks of theft are higher.'
Never the least stir made the bank staff
Engrossed in bits and bytes
Eyes glued to the glimmering of grey-green screens
And their messages in lights.
But they'll read Head Office memos
On accounts lost and, anon
They'll find profits take quite a down turn
When the customers are gone.
Troy