The ATM Queue

You are in dire need of cash

And rush off to the automated teller machine in a dash

Hoping to make withdrawal in a flash from the funds stashed

At the sight of the ATM queue you hope becomes crashed

You join the line and wait patiently for your turn

Not minding that the queue is the length of dusk to dawn

The sun hits hard but you relax with a comb of roasted corn

Consoled with the thought of cash at hand and you’re gone

Thirty minutes gone and you’re finally next in line

A smile spreads across your face, knowing all will be fine

All you can now think of is a bottle of wine

To propose to your love with whom you plan to dine

Card in machine and password entered correctly

You punch the keypad like the clerk of a cooperative

The machine spins and rolls effectively

“Switch or issuer inoperative”

**

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