And now for some biting social commentary. Brace yourselves people…
First-Class Man
Dawn train to Hallelujah-land,
Screaming down the line;
Wheels of rusty ferrous alloy
Click in two-four time.
Carriage E, first-class man
Sits upright, silk tie slack,
Coffee stain spreads a web
On jacket sleeve that once was black.
Go to Harrods while in town;
Perhaps a paisley dressing gown.
Off the train and into taxi
(Avoid paying Congestion Fee),
Walk through glass revolving door,
Nod at receptionist as she smiles,
Take the lift up to the tenth floor,
Secretary looks up from her files.
Grab the papers without a glance.
Close the door and fall into chair,
Lean back and dream of South of France.
Sees them an hour a day.
Working hard to buy them pleasure,
New games console is consolation
Love is bought with hotel fares.
Dreary meetings take up time,
Put it down on invoice slip.
To spend on the next skiing trip.
Leave the office at 9:30,
Take the taxi back to train,
On the train returning homewards,
Half way through it starts to rain.
Walk to car with golf umbrella
(Membership must be renewed…)
Sports car comes with just one seat
And Italian-leather racing shoes.
Home has fourteen living rooms,
Most of them are always closed.
Small built-on flat for the nanny,
(Wife works too – designing clothes).
Thai food cooked by world renowned chef,
Eats it sitting by himself,
Place it back upon the shelf.
Shower off the daily grime,
Bores himself to sleep by counting
Forty, fifty, sixty, sheep.
Alarm clock rings at five to five,
New day starts in coffee shop,
Gets his mocha-cappuccino,
Careful not to spill a drop.
Attended by a teenage clerk.
On the train, in Carriage E,
Want to know what success is,
How to make it if you can?
There he goes: The First-Class Man.