Joe in his late eighties is still quite spry
He’s involved in life and gives it his all
Any vocal dispute is worth a try -
Contrarian in matters large or small.
Tranquility the cause of much dismay,
He lives for the chance of a verbal fight
And never gives up till the end of play
Only satisfied to be in the right.
A scourge of the Seventh Day Adventists,
The bane of those Mormons at the door too -
Arguing except after the dentist,
Old Joe makes sure they hear his point of view.
Holds up the line at the supermarket
All over five cents on a price or two;
The wish expressed that he should just cark it
Is a faint murmuring heard from the queue.
At his units a debate under way
Relating to waste management I’m told:
Recycling bins are left out on which day -
And now which fortnight out and which to hold?
Joe made a suggestion that quite simply
Was a way out and obviously neat:
The answer could be gained quite easily
By studying other bins on the street.
Of course Joe’s solution had much merit
So then all would be well you might assume,
But the fool didn’t know when to cork it;
He pressed on and gave those two blokes the broom:
Casting doubts upon the lad’s pedigree -
An insult which could well end in affray,
Amounted to a loss of dignity
And was disrespect for which he would pay.
...........................................................
It was early the following morning
When two passing strangers noticed a bin,
Bricks piled on the lid as if a warning
And suddenly muffled sounds from within.
Bricks were removed with great trepidation
Then the lid swung open as if possessed -
And up sprang Joe in great indignation
With expletives the Devil might have blessed.
Now although frustrations do come his way
Joe appears to have found an inner peace,
There’s no debate, just a solemn G’day -
Has meditation allowed all conflict to cease?