The Plumber Relay

Earlier this week I had issues with my boiler. The water was coming out, but in a reluctant dribble. It was not providing a shower but more so a drizzle. The kind that feels like rain, but you’re not quite sure. I sat there after the plumber left, another company’s number in my hand to call as he couldn’t sort out the issue and wrote this poem.

Leaking pipe

The Plumber Relay

He came with tools

the promise of a fix

new tubes and pipes

amongst his box of tricks.


Noises were made

the oohs and ahhs of broke

as water dripped

and gurgled with a croak.


As minutes passed

your hopes began to grow

that dreaded block

was finally set to go.


But then he said

“There’s nothing I can do”

with hands held high

“You’ll need another crew.”


So you are left

the water weak and cold

to scorn and curse

the fixing put on hold.


And still you wait

the heat and shower still

for more to come

and take away the chill.


So swathed in clothes

I will the phone to ring

and try to block

the pong of sweaty zing.


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