I’m stuck on hold, waiting on the line,
the same irritating music, all’s not fine.
Who picks these tunes, irritating at best,
when I finish my call, I’ll need a rest.
The computer age, electronic devices,
well-mannered stinks, I need some vices.
I’ll use a machine to call them up,
and retreat to a bar for wine in a cup.
Pic: Premier Contact Point