The Non-Indicator Man Poem by Catherine Casey

The Non-Indicator Man



The Non-indicator man,
You’ll notice him for sure.
That irritating self-person.
If he was only more demure.


The roundabout’s his favourite.
He could tangent it all day.
Each turn off the same for us.
He even looks the other way.


‘What are they all looking at? ’
He grumbles at the queue.
‘This road was built for me you know.
Go on! Go stuff you!


Waiting? Yes they can.
I was here first.
Keep them guessing is my pledge.
I love it when I’m cursed.’


Stridence at every turn
Is passed on to his pupils.
‘The debutantes can spread the news.
Forget about your scruples.


Who needs a ticking light
To indicate direction?
Half the fun’s to hold the plot,
To liven the inflexion'.


The sad thing being;
When two of them shall meet,
Of minds alike they maybe,
Yet suspect the other weak.


A bluff too many pays the price,
To be hoped it’s just a prang.
A lesson learnt. A timely jolt.
Forsaken.. the flick of a hand.


The next time at a junction
You come across the same,
You’re not alone, we also note
The gesture of a feign.


So keep your chin-up (Englishness) .
This battle may be terse.
Who’s to say for reading this
One less will get the curse?

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