After hearing an interview with a head of department in the Bank of England.
'There are five or six of us in my department.
There's myself and four other members of staff.'
How proud his parents were
When he landed the job with the Bank of England
How vindicated their sacrifices
In sending him to Eton
The headmaster of his Prep. school had told them
'Your son is not academically gifted,
- better send him to a decent public school.'
How right he was - you don't get a plum job
With the Old Lady of Threadneedle Street
If you're a prole
No matter how academically gifted!
But he'd sailed through the interview on his old school tie
Joined all the right clubs (golf and gentleman's)
Regularly played eighteen holes with his boss
And lost, narrowly, on the last three
Married well and bought a fine house in Esher
Mortgaged, on very favourable terms, to The Bank
Kept his nose clean and rose steadily through the ranks
To become, eventually, head of his own department.
And he reached these dizzy banking heights
In spite of his inability
To add one and four and arrive
At a precise, mathematically exact answer
But relies instead on giving
In an expensive cut-glass accent
An estimate of... five or six.
Close enough old boy
Close enough.
Tony Ladds
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/thoughts-on-the-english-class-system/
